


Dark Figure

by SpuffyCarrie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action & Romance, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Banter, Complete, Dark Character, Death Threats, Declarations Of Love, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Violence, Muggle Life, Muggle London, Nightmares, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Pining, Post-Canon, Smut, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2020-04-11 18:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 137,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been used as a scapegoat by the Ministry. The muggle Prime Minister insisted he is sent, wandless, into muggle London to carry out community service to make up for the damage caused by the Death Eaters during the Wizarding War. Thinking he will be there for some time, Draco eventually settles in and begins to cover his body in tattoos to hide his dark mark. He becomes addicted to the rush, meets a good friend and learns a lot about growing up from muggles.Hermione is an apprentice to Kingsley, the Minister for Magic - also living in muggle London. A year after the end of the war a memo arrives on her desk regarding a letter the Ministry has received from Narcissa Malfoy, who is under house arrest. She hasn’t seen her son in over a year and is worried for his safety. Hermione realises, even though Harry helped acquit Draco at the Wizangamot after the war, Draco hasn’t been seen since and nobody seems to care.  Subsequent to realising Draco is missing, Hermione is now being followed by a sinister hooded figure. Who could it be?A story written in Draco and Hermione POV, beta’d by the fabulous @badwolfjediI’ll post every Thursday on Ao3 (with update posts on Tumblr - scdramione.tumblr.com)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to welcome you to this brand new fic, I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. Let me know your thoughts by leaving kudos or a comment, I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> *Please note I will add additional warnings where they are needed in chapter notes.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable music, characters, settings, pictures etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

**Draco**

"Malfoy! Get on with it or I’ll be filing a report on you, and let’s just say, it’ll be less than bloody glowing!”

Life’s like that here, in muggle central, and it has been for the past six months, each day filled with the same shit as the day before.

I suppose I should explain. You might know me as Draco Malfoy, hell, even I know me as Draco Malfoy, but here in muggle London, I’m known as Drax by the crew and the crew consists of every reprobate who didn’t make it to prison on their last try. 

I’m here—why am I here? Oh, right, because Potter tried to get me off and nearly succeeded, except, the Minister needed a scapegoat for the muggle Prime Minister, and it unsurprisingly turned out to be moi, the youngest Death Eater and the only one who escaped Azkaban.

I was truly grateful at first, that was until I found out what Community Service was. If you don’t know, it’s where they make you wear a high visibility vest with Community Payback emblazoned on the back, so everyone knows you’ve done something wrong and tuts as they pass you like you’re the shit on their shoe, regardless of not knowing a thing about you. It’s almost laughable, especially since these muggles will never know what I did or understand why I did it. Still, I suppose it’s better than spending the next year alongside my father and his cronies in prison in the wizarding world. Of course, none of the others here were accused of premeditated murder, accessory to murder and political agitation, even if I didn’t have the balls to carry it out. The other stipulation by the muggle Prime Minister was that I would have to spend the next two years living in a hostel in muggle London without any connection with the wizarding world. None, nada. I’m not even sure I can tell you how bad that was at first.

"Alright!” I fire back at the supervisor, Big John, he’s one of the easier ones, he lets us take cigarette breaks and at least twenty minutes for lunch. I picked up this disgusting habit from my new muggle friends, and sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me from wanting to top myself in the dead of night. I stub my butt out on the ground and Mark, one of my co-workers sidles closer as he tries for the sixth time to remove the same bit of graffiti. I didn’t know what this art was until I started out with this chain gang, but my fellow workers told me that some bloke is a national treasure paints it wherever he likes, and the muggles protect it which doesn’t make sense when we’ve been tasked with removing the rest. I’ve learned to appreciate it since, even if the paintings don’t move or talk back, because someone’s taken the time to paint it over the shitty London skyline and I dislike it as much as the muggles who’ve lived here their entire life.

"That’s it, boys, get your slips signed and you can head off.” John tells us and I’m relieved because I can at least get back to my tiny room behind Westminster tube station. I find my way to the tube and jump on the Jubilee line. 

I sign in when I arrive at the offenders hostel and I’m searched for weapons, alcohol and drugs and I hear a kerfuffle as another bloke gets arrested by the muggle police, he’s yelling the place down, jacked up on heroin; that’s a muggle term for taking some opiate type of drug, its rife here, and most of the men staying here are either alcoholics or drug takers of some kind. In the wizarding world we have potions to sober us up and I suppose witches and wizards could get addicted to dreamless sleep, you know, stuff like that, but I wouldn’t say it’s a problem like in muggle London. The fear of being found out and sent to Azkaban to finish my sentence always keeps me away from trying stuff like that, but I have to say the temptation to get drunk on muggle whiskey, as awful as it is, is always there because I don’t sleep, not properly and I haven’t for the past year. It’s like this sentence was set up to break me by taking everything away from me, but I won’t let it, anyway, leaving all that behind has been a relief as I dread to know what’s being said about me and my family. I have to attend a local muggle probation office three times a week to register, so they know I haven’t run off, where I also get tested for alcohol and drugs. One day a week I see a wizard therapist in Charing Cross, London, and I’m expected to participate in my rehabilitation. Its bloody hard, as I know Diagon Alley is only a few feet away, but I don’t have my wand and it feels like I’ve lost my right arm. Even if I wanted to run home I couldn’t.

"Lord Drax! Good to see you mate, do you want the rest done tonight? It’s looking too good to leave it unfinished.”

Chris is a nice bloke, a tattooist by trade, unfortunately he’s also an alcoholic who needs muggle money to get pissed later.

“Yeah, give me a minute to get showered and I’ll be down.” I reply to the guy who lives on the level below me. The place is filled with men, some who just stare at me like they might eat me for breakfast, others who are bigger than Greyback and look twice as nasty. I’ve learned not to trust many, but Chris is one of the good guys, in here for theft, which I can only assume was to support his voracious appetite for alcohol. Since substances and alcohol are banned, I have no idea how he manages to drink and still get back in late at night. He’s a damn good tattooist and security have some great tattoos, so it’s not difficult to make the connection. Even in the muggle world, its easy enough to obtain what you want if you have the right bartering tool.

I step in the communal shower and no longer turn my nose up in disgust at the filth around me, it’s still there but I’m gladder to rinse off the sweat from a day’s work than worry about where. I made that mistake when I first arrived and got beaten half to death by a fellow resident who took umbrage at the look I gave him, he said he didn’t like my face and I’m well aware what a Malfoy sneer looks like, I’ve seen it in my refection my whole life. That was when I learned to watch my back, I’d survived worse at the hands of the Dark Lord, but here without a wand I was more vulnerable than ever. To cut a long story short, Chris saved me and taught me to keep my privileged trap shut while I was here, he taught me a lot more about the muggle world actually and I wonder whether I’d still be breathing without him. He never questioned why I was so wet behind the ears; his words, not mine; just guided me in the ways of the world.

I change into some grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt and walk down the stairs to Chris’ room just as he’s throwing out some bloke and calling him a fucking ponce.

“Bring me a pony or it’ll stay unfinished, you fucking—” Chris sees me and pauses his tirade, pushing the guy out of the way. “My Lord!” He grins, bowing dramatically before me in a Shakespearean manner. I don’t know how he knows I’m a Lord, or even if he thinks that at all. I think he does that because I’m well spoken and have a bit of ready cash. Thankfully I get a small allowance from the Malfoy estate, and when I say small, I mean literally for essentials, but it’s a fortune compared to the benefits others here get from the muggle Government. Chris knows I have it, and I’m not stupid, he sees me as a cash cow, but I don’t care as he’s still kinder than any of the others I’ve met here and amusing company of an evening.

Since everywhere is so grubby, I buy the ink, medical gloves, clean needles and I make sure he opens the packet before me every time he works on me. In six months, I now have two fully sleeved arms, tattoos covering the scars on my chest that Potter left when did that magical wank of a spell on me in sixth year on his part. Chris has transformed the Dark Mark into a pictorial garden of herbs and ingredients for Amortentia. Ridiculous I know, but I thought it might eventually help if I wanted to court a witch or maybe find the one I've loved for years but never had the guts to ask out.

If you're wondering, it's a girl you know, she's a woman by now. Someone who surely hates the very ground I walk on and I can't blame her, I was a total shit to her. Another thing about living in muggle London is you encounter a myriad of amazing curse words and none of them involve magic of any kind. In the hostel its almost expected of you that every second word is fuck.

The one thing about loving Hermione Granger for eight years is you develop a feeling of being a masochist, a lowly snake in the mouth of a lioness. You also derive pleasure from being a bully and calling her every nasty name you can come up with, because, if you don’t have the ability to make her smile, then watching any reaction to you gives you some sense of being in her head. I’m sick, right? I know I'm an arsehole and at least I admit it, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about her at every given opportunity. Being taken away from the wizarding world has given me things to think about, the awful way I treated her to gain some boyish gratification only one of them. 

Chris takes out a new needle and I pull out the usual rickety chair, turning it around to sit and leaning my arms on the back as I wait for the buzz to begin.

"Look man, I know I said this a million times before, but getting a bird’s face tattooed on you is a bad move, especially a tat this big." I watch him take a drag on his fag, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, before thumping his chest and coughing as he hacks like he's about to die.

"It's my skin isn't it?" I tut.

"Yeah mate, I just know millions of blokes who did it and came back for coverups when the bird dumped 'em."

"She won't dump me, because I don't have a chance with her, never did." I close my eyes and sigh as he starts on my back piece. “I lost someone who wasn’t even mine.” I mutter.

“That’s the way of the world my friend, happens to us all.”

“Yeah, but then I’m sure you didn’t spend six years calling her the nastiest things imaginable and making her cry if you could.”

He pauses and I hear paper rustling behind me. "No, can’t say as I have mate.” He speaks absently before continuing, “I'll never get over these moving pictures in this bloody paper, seriously, I wonder if I'm hallucinating from the DT's when I see this pretty girl’s smile." 

I grin at that, at least a six-foot aging punk rocker can appreciate how gorgeous she is. Since he's started using the needle on me, I've come to find it cathartic, like a punishment in some ways but also somewhat of an addiction. I know he'll probably tell his mates at the pub of the strange newspaper with the moving pictures, but I'm confident none would believe him. I've learned how badly people like us are thought of and I knew no one would believe his tall tale after a few drinks.

"She's beautiful and too good for the likes of me, always was." I admit. I know Chris appreciates honesty, he tells me frequently that a tattooist is like a priest, people confess all sorts while under the needle.

"Birds come and go and the scariest thing in the world is a silent smiling woman like this one, she’ll grab you by the bollocks and rip ‘em off." He looks at the clock, I know he's desperate to get to the pub as his hands are shaking and he’s turned off the tattoo gun.

"She’s already done that in a roundabout way. That's enough for tonight. Let me up and I'll give you your bullseye." I'd always agreed to pay Chris double for his work, it meant he'd want to finish it, however hungover he was, and he’d be careful about it.

Chris places his hands on the counter as he drops the tattoo gun. "M-mate, I want to kick it, want to stop but I can't, I can't do it. I know I'm fucked."

"We're all fucked." I say lowly, walking over and clapping him on the back, "Just some less than others." I chuckle. I feel lighter when he lets out a raucous laugh.

"Ain't that the truth, Drax."

I hand him his muggle money and he passes me back the picture of Granger from the first edition of Witch Weekly after the war. I walk to the door. "The offer still stands. When my probations over, if you want to go to rehab, I'll pay. It's a promise."

"'Preciate it me Lord." He bows, taking his money and almost running down the corridor.

I need to walk, so I follow him after signing out, he’s gone by the time I reach the street. I pull on my generic black hoodie. I take a late night stroll every night before bed to rid myself of thoughts about all the things I ever did and the people I lost. I to try to remember her face as she watched me in court, caged while Potter tried to convince them I wasn't bad, just misguided and that I tried to help them. I try to forget her screams when my aunt tortured her in the same place I played with my toys as a child and I'm haunted by them whenever I close my eyes, along with the sight of my schoolmates dying during the battle and my piss poor excuse for walking over to Voldemort in front of them all when he called me. I'm a coward and don't know if I'll ever return to the wizarding world because at least here, muggles don’t care who you are if you stay in the shadows.

........

**Hermione**

Do you know when you get that feeling? That shiver down your spine when you think you're being watched? I've experienced that for weeks. It's like every step I take has been observed and I have a strange feeling of dread.

It's been a year since the war and I accepted an apprenticeship position at the Ministry of Magic, apprentice to the Ministers secretary which was sought after by every person with an interest in politics. It's not quite as boring as it sounds as I get to work in every department and shadow the minister himself and let me tell you, it's quite an interesting job when you're watching a Minister rebuild wizarding Britain after a war. It meant I had to study for my NEWT’s via correspondence every night, but I finally sat the exams in September and passed with flying colours, Ron and Harry are still yet to complete them and I wonder if they ever will. I try to impress upon Harry that he won’t be able to live on reputation forever, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. The option was available to attend Hogwarts for an eighth year, but the amazing opportunities for us three far outweighed a return to our education and believe me when I say I thought long and hard about it. Kingsley wanted us and I wasn't silly enough to think it was for my skill as a witch. He homed in on our popularity as war heroes as soon as possible, rebuilding the wizarding world on Harrys reputation and the fact the Golden Trio were working alongside him for a better future. We joked that Harry might do better as the Minister himself, which went down like a lead balloon with the remainder of the Order. It was a time of forgiveness for some, imprisonment for most who fought against us, the rest saw sunshine in the world again and managed to somehow grieve and get on with their lives.

Harry, Ron and I all testified in the Death Eater trials, and it was a sombre time, knowing we were sending many to the kiss and others to life imprisonment in Azkaban. The ones which affected me most were the Malfoys, not only because I suffered the worst torture imaginable on the floor of their home, but because it caused so many arguments between us three. Harry wanted to testify for Narcissa, and really there was no contention there, she'd risked her life for Harry, and he felt the need to repay her for her kindness. She was given solitary house arrest for two years, Draco was aquitted, and Lucius sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban, spared the kiss only because of his wife's actions. Ron wanted them all to be given the kiss, he said they all participated in some way and the only way to stop it happening again was to stamp it out, his opinion was based on what happened when there wasn’t a hard line taken after the first wizarding war and his loss of Fred grated hard on him. I hated it all, having to look these people in the eye as my words invariably subjected them to the terrors of Azkaban.

I couldn't forgive any of the Malfoys for what happened, and I spend my nights reliving my ordeal at Bellatrix' hand, my eyes on Draco as his hands clutched the doorframe with white knuckles and tear-filled eyes. I’ve called him Draco, rather than Malfoy, in my mind ever since, since it seems appropriate to be on first name terms when you’ve been tortured on the floor of someone’s home. Anyway, I could never be sure it happened that way, pain that extreme fills your mind like a desperate, foggy cloud and reality distorts your perception. That's why Harry mainly testified on our behalf, I couldn't be sure that Draco was crying for me, and anyone who knows me well will say I have to tell the unquestionable truth. At least Harry knew Draco didn't intend to kill Dumbledore, due to his presence below on the Astronomy tower that night, the one saving grace for our schoolmate. I remember feeling Draco’s eyes on me as Harry spoke and when I looked up, they flashed silver, leaving me trembling as I didn't understand the meaning in that look. It wasn't one of hatred, it was almost apology or gratitude, and if I allowed myself to investigate it further, which I don’t, it seemed to hold much more than that.

To be honest, I hadn't thought much about Draco until recently. Narcissa was on two-year strict solitary probation to be served within the manor and I'd assumed Draco had been allowed to join her, carrying on his life in some way following his reprieve. I suppose I’d hoped he’d carried on his studies as he was always as bright as me, I just pipped him to the post mostly. You know what they say about assuming don't you? As when a stray memo landed on my desk, copying in the Minister, all those assumptions went out the window.

The memo is regarding a plea from Narcissa Malfoy to the Minister, asking for Draco to be sent home from whichever incarceration he was being held in, risking being sent to prison herself by questioning the Ministry’s methods while still on probation. She knew nothing apart from her son hadn’t written in over a year, and letters were the only contact she was allowed. I suppose this was because the Ministry were able to check her correspondence before she received it. The coffee I’m drinking slides into my lap as I lose grip on the handle in shock. Brushing myself down and casting a quick scourgify, I rush to hastily scrabble through the pile of the Daily Prophets in the corner of my office. I stopped reading when my life was splashed over the front page. It started with my very public breakup with Ron, the breakup that never happened, I might add, because Ron and I laughed about our snog in the chamber afterwards, both realising we felt nothing romantic for each other. However, Rita Skeeter ran _our supposed breakup_ as headline news. I'm not interested in anything other than finding what I'm looking for. Ah, got it, June 1st, 1998, Narcissa Malfoy Under House Arrest! It doesn't make sense but then I look for Draco’s trial the day before hers, how could I have forgotten? Draco Malfoy - Acquitted. What the hell happened to him? Is he the type to leave his mother alone and leave without telling her? I don't think so, especially knowing what he said in court about doing what he did to protect his mother. It all seems too outlandish that he’d just vanish.

Concerned at how easily Malfoy has disappeared from the face of the earth, I begin digging in the archives for any files on the Malfoys, which turns up nothing as I don't have clearance for the files I really need from the Auror’s Department, so I think about giving up. The last thing I need is a crusade, I've had enough of them in the past and I know I should just get on with living my life.

I close the filing cabinet and I get that feeling of being watched again. The lights flicker and I turn to see a figure standing in the shadows at the end of the long row of cabinets, at least fifty feet away; the archives are almost the size of a small aircraft hangar. The figure is clearly a human male, or perhaps a muscular female dressed in all black with a hood drawn over their face, so its hard to see any other defining characteristics.

"Hello?" My voice echoes throughout the room and I place my hand to my brow, trying to see who it is. There’s no reply, the person doesn’t move.

“Hello, can I help you?” I call out again. Odd. Why would someone not at least wave back when they’re in a creepy place with a fellow colleague?

The figure starts to move at speed towards me, and I get a gut wrenching feeling that this is not good. Fight or flight kicks in and I turn to run as the dark hooded figure gains on me, heavy feet slapping on the wooden flooring. I scramble for the door and drop my wand in the process, flinging myself out into the hallway, the door clatters as it slams behind me. I feel like I can't breathe and I'm on my hands and knees in the empty corridor. Moments pass and nobody leaves the room so, curious to a fault, I get up and hobble towards the small round window in the door and peer through, seeing no sign of anyone at all. I wonder if I’ve imagined it all, then I whether it was some sort of security spell, like the one Dumbledore put on Grimmauld Place, terrifying, but not dangerous.

"Hermione? Hermione are you alright? I saw you fall."

I'm so relieved to hear Harry’s voice I almost burst into tears. What was that? There was no reason for this figure to be there, and I think what terrified me the most was the fact they looked like a Death Eater but without the mask. I make a mental note to check I’m following protocol for the archives; which I was sure I was.

"Yes, err, I just tripped on my way out." That's feasible, right? I'm always falling over things, actually not so much since Malfoy stopped tripping me at school, but I’m sure Harry would believe me.

"I see you’re just as clumsy as ever.” He grins, “Let's get you cleaned up, you've cut your knee." He points at the offending scrape. 

I peer at my knee and he's right, a steady stream of blood is making its way down my leg, blossoming through my ivory coloured tights. "My wand, I think I dropped my wand inside the door as I fell." 

Harry opens the doors and looks inside, searching the floor and a little further towards the filing cabinets. I hold my breath, waiting for him to return.

"It’s not here, are you sure it's not in your pocket?" 

I search my blazer pockets and find nothing. I don't want to concern Harry over nothing, so I lie to him, I don't know why, but it comes as easily as breathing, which is a tad scary. "Oh, do you know what? I think I left it in my office." Harry's eyes me suspiciously for a second, but then he gives me a cheeky grin and swings me into his arms bridal style. I let out a yip of protest.

"Come on then Miss Ungraceful, let’s find you a plaster for that knee."

Almost everyone in the department stops and stares as my best friend carries me through the offices to the break room, sits me on a table and begins searching cupboards for a medical box, eventually giving in and using his wand, “Accio Medical supplies.” One flies from one of the cupboards he already looked in.

“I must get my eyes checked, can’t see a bloody thing nowadays.” He chortles.

"You know everyone will talk if you do things like that." I peer at two of my colleagues staring at Harry with moon eyes from the doorway, they obviously think they’re being discrete, which they are not, at all. He has never lost his fan club, now a year older, less lanky and more muscular from his training, he has stubble gracing his lower jaw, his black hair a little shaggier and grown down to the nape of his neck. I’m surprised he hasn’t been snapped up by some gorgeous witch. I’ve never fancied Harry but I have eyes and can see he’s grown into a very handsome man. I’m lucky to know that he has a good heart too and he’ll make some witch a wonderful husband one day.

"Let them talk, Hermione.” He waves his hand, “Anyway, they all know my heart belongs to you." He clutches his hands over his heart dramatically as he drops to his knees and winks at me.

"Harry!" I giggle, knowing he's putting on a show for our audience. Truthfully, we've always been like brother and sister, even though the whole wizarding world would like to see us as a power couple, married with two point four kids. Unfortunately, it seemed all relationships forged in the heat of war were never meant to last, as Harry and Ginny were only friends nowadays, leaving my best friend one of the most eligible bachelors in Wizarding Britain, and its nauseating at how many witches who would never have given him a second look before, now fawn over him like he’s a God.

"Look," he becomes serious as he gets to his feet and finishes cleaning my cut, gently placing the plaster on my knee, "I don't know what's going on with you, but you would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you? You know it doesn't take much to start me worrying, or Ron for that matter." 

I think about telling him, perhaps the dark figure might've just been looking for someone else? That's it, a case of mistaken identity. I want to believe that, but already I see the coincidence between my knowledge regarding Draco’s disappearance, me seeking his file and someone trying to chase me off, I just find it hard to believe this could happen inside the Ministry. I should tell Harry, but he looks so tired nowadays with his long hours of training and studies for his NEWT’s and I just don't want to bother him for something that might be nothing. I'm a war heroine so hardly unable to protect myself. "I'm fine, I really just tripped, you don't need to worry about me." I give him a gentle hug and thank him for tending to my knee, before leaving to return to my office.

The first thing I notice is the memo I left on my desk is gone and in its place is my wand. I shiver, this is beyond sinister, I don’t know what to do, I can hardly ask the Minster about a memo I shouldn’t have seen in the first place, I could jeopardise my apprenticeship as we all know the rules on data protection and restricted documents and I’ve already done more than I should have by reading the Malfoy file.

I plop into my seat, my whole body feeling heavy as the adrenaline dissipates. I have a really bad feeling about this. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG! Have you seen the amazing moodboard @badwolfjedi (bwj-dramione-blog on tumblr) has made me? It's amazing and fabulous, and look at the tattooed Draco! I adore it! 
> 
> We left Hermione with a feeling of foreboding at the end of the last chapter, along with a yummy tattooed Draco in muggle London.
> 
> ***I will give a trigger warning for this chapter, as somebody is attacked, its not of a sexual nature and there are only some minor injuries, but if this may trigger you then please skip the last part of the chapter, I will advise where***

 

 

**Draco**

 

Another night of walking until I was tired enough to stumble back to my room seemed monotonous because I’ve seen everything in a five-mile radius at least twice. I’ve had enough of seeing the worst of muggle society in the depths of night, so instead I opt for buying a ticket to a muggle film at a brightly lit cinema. Its almost midnight so my choices are one of two about to start, one called Practical Magic, or a war film called Saving Private Ryan. I opt for the Magic one as I’ve had enough violence to last me a lifetime and I’m also intrigued to find out what muggles make of magic. I’m the only one there, apart from a person sitting in the middle row of seats wearing a hooded jacket much like my own. I purchased a snack called popcorn which I was assured by the vendor was the thing to have at the cinema while he looked at me like I might be from another planet. I chose sweet as I have a sweet tooth I don’t indulge too often. I navigate the strange flipping seats and finally mange to sit, manoeuvring my popcorn onto my lap in the darkness. The lights lower and I start watching the film, the title characters remind me of Granger and the little Weaslette with her red hair and I find myself laughing out loud on occasion at their strange antics, although I believe the film was supposed to be more romantic than funny. I’ve been in awe of some of the muggle inventions, telly, or so Chris calls it, and the radio, turning all sorts of music out which puts the Weird Sisters to shame, not that I ever listened to their garbage anyway.

I’m peering at the strange ingredients the two witches seem to want to make into a potion in one scene, when my view is interrupted by the person wearing the hooded jacket rising from their seat and walking down the aisle towards me. His footsteps are too deliberate for my liking and I instantly reach into my pocket for my wand on reflex. Of course, it isn’t there, you complete idiot, I tell myself, seeing only the low lights from beside the seats illuminating his black sports shoes, trainers, I correct myself, Chris calls them trainers and they are very comfortable, as I have found.

The hackles on my neck raise as he comes closer, his steps slowing as he mounts the steps to my right. He pauses and I clutch the popping corn so tightly it all spills into my lap. “Sweet Salazar!” I mutter and I look down quickly at the mess. When I look up, he’s gone, and I hear the door closing behind me. I think I’m just too jumpy, the person was probably just taking their time as they left and I’m overly paranoid, after all, who even knows I’m here? The trouble is, he looked far too much like a Death Eater for my liking. I watch the end of the movie but mind is elsewhere, I wish the character who looked a little like Granger saw me in her future and wanted to marry only me, a pipe dream I know, but it causes a feeling in my belly that keeps me warm on my trek back to the hostel.

………………..

**Hermione**

 

“I don’t need a boyfriend, I’m happy as I am!” I giggle as Ginny tries to push me towards some guy in the Club. We decided to try one called Titanix and all I’ve seen is snooty blokes with money thinking they’re god’s gift. Ginny and I shopped in Knightsbridge, had our hair and nails done and then let rip, drinking champagne cocktails and giggling together, dancing to pumping beats as I tried to avoid the attention we were receiving. Ginny, however, revelled in it.

Ever since I decided to live in muggle London, and I had a shed load of Galleons awarded to me by the Ministry for my part in the war, Ginny and I had a girl’s night every Friday night, then headed back to my flat overlooking Victoria Park, Westminster. It cost me over a million pounds, but I knew if my parents still knew me, they’d advise me to invest in property. I had the money, so I did with a few million to spare. I lived frugally most of the time, my only extravagances good clothes and one night out per week. Ginny loved our nights and was jealous, I know she was, I’d invited her to flat-share, but Molly was loathed to let her only daughter go so soon after Fred’s death. So, I shared my flat with an elderly, sometimes cranky Crookshanks, who was treated like royalty in his dotage and loved it. I try not to think about my parents too much, because if I do, I end up in floods of tears and hating myself for the choices I made during the war, even if it was to keep them safe. Kingsley sent mind healers to reverse my Obliviation, but it didn’t work, I’d done it too well, and that’s the sad story of Hermione Grangers life. So, once a year I take a Portkey to Sydney, Australia and play the distant niece they never knew. The two, who thought they were always childless, love me so much it hurts to lie to them, but I never stop holding out for a breakthrough which might restore them to me.

“Come on Hermione, I have to go home tonight, so at least one of us should have some fun. He’s cute.”

He is kind of cute, but his dark hair somehow reminds me of Dolohov, and I don’t like the way he speaks to the waitress. “No,” I shout over the loud music, “I want an early night.” I close in on myself and want to leave, to go home to my flat and watch a flotilla of boats travelling along the Thames, along with a nightcap.

“You know,” Ginny chastises as we walk to collect our coats from the cloak room, “You’ll need to start living again at some point, Hermione, you’re a catch in the Wizarding world and if you don’t want an eligible bachelor there, then find a nice muggle guy, there’s so many to choose from.” She looks wistfully back at the bar.

I know, but I’m not ready, there’s too much to remember, too much to forget and I don’t think I want to be involved with anyone at the moment. I nod and she sighs.

“You could just date occasionally, take a good-looking man out on a date, maybe take someone home? I hear Blaise Zabini is free.”

I inhale sharply. “Ginny, I love you, but there’s no way I’ll be getting involved with a Slytherin, even if his part in the war wasn’t questionable.” What the hell Ginny?

“He was never a Death Eater, he was just—”

“The best friend of Malfoy, someone who was with them in the room of requirement at the last battle when Goyle tried to Avada me, Harry and your own brother. Ginny, not everyone can forgive so easily because he has a pretty face that graces Witch Weekly on a regular basis as number one sexiest Wizard of 1998.” I wish I hadn’t said it, as Ginny’s face crumples, she loves reading the magazine as it takes her away from her grief for Fred and the horror of the past war. “Look, I’m sorry, I love you, you’re my best female friend and I know your heart is in the right place, but I can barely function on my own and to have to deal with a man’s feeling for me seems—it seems like too much effort for me at the moment.” I hug her tightly.

She returns my hug and brushes a stray hair away from my cheek. “I just worry about you; I want you to be happy.” She says gently.

“Ginny, you should know by now I don’t need a man to make me happy, you and your crazy ways make me happy, nights spent with Harry and Ron or with your family at the Burrow make me happy.”

“But don’t you wish—?”

I know exactly what she’s about to say, she’s alluding to my virginial status. “The time will come when I meet somebody I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I promise you’ll be the first to know when I do. The fact I’ve never slept with anyone is of no consequence, those things don’t matter to me, you know that.”

“Well, seeing as I’m getting nowhere in my crusade to get you laid, Miss Granger, I’ll just ask you to see me to my apparition point.” She staggers slightly and gesticulates to a dark alley beside the club.

“Ginny, don’t vomit on your mother’s rug again, she’ll kill you and send me a howler for letting you get drunk again.”

“Who says I’m going home?” She giggles, “I might just accidently arrive at the Zabini mansion.”

She lets out a roar of laughter as she apparates immediately, leaving me shouting to nobody, “Don’t you dare, Ginny Weasley!”

The silence after my voice echoes the alley makes me feel vulnerable, so I start back to the front of the club as quickly as possible. Its been a strange day and I just want to go home. My flat is only a few streets away, so I say goodnight to the club security and begin the short walk through Victoria Park, clutching my wand tightly. If I didn’t have my wand, I would never walk alone at night like this, but the alcohol makes me feel invincible.

The wind picks up as I stride purposefully home, humming a tune to myself. The atmosphere is close, and it feels like a storm is on its way, I stop for a second as I hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. A large raindrop hits my shoulder and I speed up, knowing I don’t have long before a downpour soaks me to the bone, my shorts and designer leather jacket are hardly any protection.

****Please be wary of reading on if you are triggered by an attack*****

A large copse of trees is drawing up to my right and the storm has made the night darker than it would usually be. I see shadows hovering in my peripheral vision, but the wind is swaying the trees so much I can’t see if there’s anything untoward there. I have my wand held so tightly I worry it might snap as I rush past the woodland, peering back behind me to check that nobody is following.

As I turn, I collide with a black hooded figure and I fall to the ground, roll over, using my hand to jump to my feet, but my designer shoes are no way a help in me regaining my footing and I drop my wand. Desperate to find it in the shadows I pat the ground around me as my attacker takes hold of my shoulder, pulling me back by the collar of my jacket.

I elbow him in the ribs, hearing a satisfying cry and bring the heel of my shoe down on his booted foot. Rushing to where I think I’ve seen my wand and reach for it, only to find it’s a long twig. The attacker has time to recover and this time I do only what I can, I let out an ear splitting scream as he grabs me by the throat.

He pushes me towards the trees, and I fight him, he’s at least a foot taller than me, large framed and strong. Oh Godrick, he’s going to kill me, I could die here tonight after surviving a Wizarding war. I let out another scream as he places a hand over my mouth and nose. I can’t breathe, oh, Merlin, somebody please help me!

……………

 

**Draco**

 

After a few yards I realise there is no way I’m going to sleep now, so I turn, walking for miles right down the river and into Victoria Park. Its nice during the day but I feel a storm coming and a few flashes of lightening flash on the horizon. Shit. Now I’m going to get soaked and I only have on my black hoodie which is about as useful as a chocolate teapot; another of Chris’ sayings.

I see a children’s play area to my right and huddle under a canopy which I think is supposed to be some kind of house for the kids. I spark up a cigarette as large drops of rain plop all around me, building to a crescendo as the storm hits above me. Its oddly calming to watch the winds whipping the trees as they’re lashed by the downpour but if I stay here, I could be waiting for hours for it to stop, so I crush my fag under heel and head out towards the Park Gates.

The wind is howling, and my hood is plastered to my head within seconds. I hear a shriek, it must be the rain, then a few moments later I hear another piercing scream. It’s a woman’s scream, I’ve heard enough of them to know. I battle with myself, should I try to find her? Or should I just ignore it and go home? I take a step on my way but then my thoughts flicker to Hermione at the Manor and how I couldn’t help her. I can help now, so I start to run in the direction I heard the scream.

 

……………….

 

**Hermione**

 

“How dare you, muggleborn! How dare you interfere!” The person growls, his voice deep and menacing.

I can’t speak, his hand is over my nose and mouth and I’m in danger of suffocation. I shake my head to warn him if he expects a reply, he may well kill me before he gets one. He seems to understand that and presses his wand to my throat.

“I’ll release your mouth, but if you try to scream, I’ll Avada you right now.”

I take huge lungsful of breath, my chest heaving as I try to see his face, its covered with the hood, and with no light, I can barely see the outline of his jaw. It doesn’t look familiar. “I-I don’t know what you mean, interfere in what?” I try to appear confident but I’m shaking so much I know he thinks I’m weak.

“Leave the Malfoy boy, he’s where he should be, he deserves it. We don’t want you looking for him or poking your muggleborn nose in where its not wanted!”

I don’t know what else to say and to save my life I just lie, “I w-won’t do anything, I-I won’t try to find him, I—”

Footsteps are splashing through the rain as someone approaches and my legs buckle, finding the figure gone in seconds. I sink to the ground, watching as someone tackles him to the ground, throwing punches as they roll in the muddy puddles. My attacker manages to crawl to his knees before standing, he kicks my saviour in his face and runs off into the night.

I let out a sob and cover my mouth to hold any more from escaping. My saviour is out cold on the ground, his blood seeping over the concrete path.

I rise and a flash of lightning illuminates my wand on the ground, barely two feet away. I think of just leaving my defender there, going home and calling for an ambulance to attend to him, but it seems wrong somehow, so I focus on my flat and apparate us both there.

We land in my lounge beside my faux fire and I shiver in shock, rubbing my arms to warm myself up as I turn on the heat. The man is out cold, with blood seeping from his mouth and nose. I rush to grab some medical supplies and tentatively sit before him on my knees.

He moans as I reach out to lift his hood away from his face and fall back on my hands in shock as white blonde hair and angelic features are revealed which can only belong to one man.

Draco Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support on this story everyone, I appreciate your lovely kudos', but feel free to reach out to me in comments or DM if you want to chat further, I wont bite :)
> 
> Thanks to @badwolfjedi (bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her wonderful beta work on this story.

**Draco**

 

“Ouch.” My eyes flutter open and all is bright. A hand is tending to my split lip and, I hiss, possibly broken nose.

“Stay still or It’ll hurt more.” A familiar female voice says, but I feel muzzy headed and bite back a growl as essence of Dittany is dropped on the wound. I don’t know where I am, but I know I’m being tended to by a witch because I’d know the scent of Dittany anywhere. I feel my lip contract as it heals and sit up, scrubbing at my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“Where am I?” It seems as reasonable enough question, until I look up to see who is on her knees before me. Hermione, fucking, Granger, object of my every fantasy for the past eight years. I think she notices my dumbstruck look as she bites her lip worriedly. My eyes follow each gnaw on her plump lower lip, willing myself to look up and meet her eyes. I’m terrified of what I might find there, but it must be done.

“Well, um, M-Malfoy, you’re in my flat in London, it seems you somehow, err, saved my life tonight.”

She doesn’t look too bothered that her childhood bully, turned Death Eater, is laying in a pool of blood on her floor so I push myself up tentatively on both hands into a sitting position against the front of her couch. “That was you?” I wipe under my nose with the back of my hand, watching as she points her wand at me. “Woah,” I raise my hands, “Remember the part where you said I saved you? I’m not sure that requires violence in retaliation.” I yelp as she mutters an Episkey, followed with Scourgify and I can breathe properly again. “Thank you.” I murmur, looking into chocolate brown eyes, speckled with gold and cinnamon hues, for the first time in a year.

“Don’t think this means anything.” She huffs and stands, flouncing off to a kitchen area and standing on tip toes to retrieve some glasses from the high ledge of a cupboard. I notice for the first time she’s wearing much tighter and revealing clothing than I’ve ever seen her in before, her black shorts rise to the point I can almost see her arse cheeks and her wet hair is falling in ringlets down her back. I raise an eyebrow at this new sex kittenish Granger, she is red hot, not that she wasn’t in her schoolmarmish get up, but now, holy shit! “Of course not, why would I think the mighty lioness would do anything for a snake such as I?” Oops. I’ve said it before I even check myself. Draco, I reprimand, you are the biggest fool I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some, believe me. She turns at that, her hand hovering over a bottle of muggle vodka, she continues to open the bottle and pour two large glasses, storming towards me and handing me one in a rough movement before perching on the edge of the plush white sofa. I watch as she slings the whole glass down her throat, mesmerised by her throat undulating and the curve of her neck as she swallows. She gasps and looks back at me, breathing heavily.

“I don’t even know how you have the audacity to say such a thing to me!” She demands, and with good reason. I see her again after dreaming of this moment and I annoy her as soon as I speak, good one, Draco.

“Look, Granger, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve got to say it’s been a bit of a shock to find myself here. The last thing I knew was getting kicked in the face by some hoodie who was attacking you in muggle London, so, I think you can see where I’m coming from?”

She purses her lips, “And I thank you for your assistance, even if it’s a long time coming. I’d appreciate it if you’d just drink up and leave.”

I look down at the glass, knowing I’ll be tested on my return to the hostel for alcohol.

She heads out of the room and turns a sharp left; I follow her because I want to tell her why I can’t drink it but find myself standing in the doorway to her bedroom as she pulls off her top. She’s removing her bra before I get a chance to tell her I’m there, I catch a flash of perfect side breast as she picks up a fluffy pyjama top and I step backwards turning to head back to the lounge and sitting on the sofa with a plop. I place my head in my hands, I don’t want her to think I’m some kind of pervert and I hope she didn’t realise I was there, because I have a feeling she’d hex me to kingdom come.

She re-enters the room and pours herself another drink, now dressed in a full set of cream coloured fluffy pyjamas, along with pink slipper boots and a towel wrapped around her wet curls. I feel disappointed she’s hidden her hair, I’ve always loved it and regret all those times I made her feel it was some kind of birds nest when I’d always just wanted to reach out and curl a lock around my fingers, preferably as I snogged her into submission. I gulp as I remember the thought’s I used to have about her, oh, fuck, who am I kidding? the thoughts I still have about her.

“I see you haven’t finished; I suggest you drink up and head home. Its been a difficult day for me and I’m not in the habit of having cosy fireside conversations with my childhood bully.” She knocks back another glass and I wonder where she’s putting it all, she’s still as petite as ever and I wonder where she’s suddenly developed an appetite for alcohol that would rival Chris’. She sits on the sofa and gives me a foul look.

“I can’t do that, Granger.” She’s on her feet, ready to take the glass from me and send me on my merry way, I can see it. “The place I’m staying at forbids alcohol.”

She looks thoughtful, then it seems like she’s had an epiphany, as her eyes light up for the barest second. She schools her face and looks down at her empty glass. “So, are you staying with Quakers or something?”

What? What the hell are Quakers? “I don’t know what that is," I frown, "I’m staying in a hostel behind Westminster Tube Station, I’m there for two years at her majesties pleasure or at least until the muggle Prime Minister informs me otherwise.”

“What? You were acquitted, I was there at the Wizangamot, Harry testified for you!” She stands, flabbergasted.

“Well, it seems that not all felt I deserved clemency, not even if Saint Potter deemed me worthy.” I want to sneer, but it isn’t my place to make fun of someone who put their neck on the line to save me when I didn’t deserve it. “And I say that fondly. He saved me and my mother from a lifetime of imprisonment and for that I will always be grateful.” I add swiftly before the towel flies off her head and Grangers hair stands on end like the muggle legend of Medusa. Oh, yeah, even reprobates like me can access a library card in muggle London and it’s been very informative.

She huffs and looks over to the bottle. I frown and wonder if drinking copious amounts of alcohol is somehow Grangers coping mechanism from the war. “Here,” I hand her the glass, “I can’t drink it, but I would If I could.” She shakes her head but accepts the glass graciously, which confuses me. She sips it slower this time, her eyes on mine as if I'm some conundrum she needs to fathom out.

“This isn’t right, Kingsley can’t sell you out to the Prime Minister when the Wizangamot acquitted you.”

I watch as her, revelling in the way her mind works, I can almost see the cogs of justice turning in her head. Hermione Granger, champion of the underdog. “It isn’t right, but who cared? Who noticed I was gone?” She looks sheepish and takes another sip.

“Nobody, I suppose, not until—”

“Until?” I question.

“The man in the park, he wasn’t just your common or garden attacker. He warned me off, told me to keep my muggleborn nose out. I—Look, I saw some paperwork which related to a letter sent to the Ministry by your mother. She has no idea where you are and they’ve had her under solitary house arrest all this time, which means she wasn’t allowed visitors who might have told her where you were sent.” She began, and my stomach dropped when I looked to see she wasn’t finished.

My mother had no idea where I was all this time? It doesn’t surprise me, as I was taken by Auror's to the Ministers office after my trial and informed that I wasn’t getting off scot free, but they told me they’d inform my mother, the bastards!

“She risked breaking her parole to ask about you, the memo landed on my desk by accident.”

How in the hell could they make this deal and not tell anyone where I was? “Where do you work?” I begin, not sure what to say, but I’m wondering whether I should be where I am at all if they hadn’t told a soul, none of it sound’s legal and I suppose I always thought it wasn't, but I was so relieved I didn’t have to go to Azkaban I just sort of accepted it, probably because I felt I deserved it in some way.

“I’m apprentice to the Minsters Secretary.”

“Of course, you are.” I can’t help but retort drily. I know she deserves every moment of her glory; she has always been brilliant. I can’t even say I feel jealous.

“Don’t say it like that! It was offered in reward for our services. I won’t have you make me feel bad about it! Also, I hasten to add, I wouldn’t know a thing about you if I didn’t work there and they could’ve lost you for eternity for all we know!”

She’s right, I know that, its just sometimes my mean streak rules my head. “Alright, I’m sorry, Granger, don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m just as pissed off as you about this, probably more so, as its actually me who’s been lost for all this time.”

I notice her absent look as she fingers the pattern on her crystal cut glass, standing to stretch my arms above my head and walking to the bank of windows overlooking muggle London. “This place is impressive.”

“Yeah, why don’t you say something about how a mudblood doesn’t deserve to live here, that I’m no better than a piece of shit in your eyes, Malfoy. How the mighty have fallen, is all I say in return.” She scolds.

I rest my head on the cool glass. “Do you really mean that, Granger? Because, from where I’m standing, that is not you. You took my bullying, but you were always above it, never nasty in return.”

I glance at her reflection and watch her brush a tear from under her eyes, drinking the vodka back and getting to her feet. “People change.” She retorts.

“Not you.” I stare at the London Eye as it lights up the darkness, much like she always has for me. “You’re pure righteousness and its doesn’t suit you to be offensive. You’re crying now and you only told me something I already know.”

“I’m not crying,” She lets out a sob which tells me otherwise, heading for the bottle.

I stride across the room, “Look, I’ll leave, but please don’t search for answers in the bottom of that bottle, they won’t be there Granger and you’ll only find yourself hungover and melancholier than ever. Take it from someone who knows. I drowned myself in fire whiskey during the war, to the point I could hardly function without it. I’m going, but if you could just allow me one piece of advice without becoming condescending.”

She glances up at me, her eyes swimming with tears.

“Don’t let your demons drag you to the depths of despair, do what you must to rid yourself of them, because if you don’t, you will come to the point where you have to decide whether you can continue to live with yourself, and sometimes that decision is easier than you think.” I place my hand over hers on the bottle, instantly aware of the scar over her inner arm. I want to recoil at the reminder, but most of all I’d be happy to sink to my knees and kiss every inch of it in humble apology.

………………….

**Hermione**

 

I don’t want him to leave. Something is telling me that he’s changed, but I rebuke myself for these thoughts, one evening in his company while I’m less than sober cannot be a decider. But I’m worried for him and if I don’t help him, who will? No-one else knows where he is and he’ll have to return to a place I would never send anyone, given the choice.

His touch is like a bolt of electricity, as are his words of warning. Tears fall over my cheeks as I look at the boy, now a man, who has paid the price but somehow earned some wisdom in its place. He could so easily have fallen in with the wrong crowd and proven us all right, but he hasn’t and he’s here with me. It’s the first time we’ve ever had the chance to try to understand each other and I want to know why he treated me like something he trod in all those years. Anger and alcohol fuel my next words. “How can you touch me when you think my kind are filthy?” I yell. I want to know; I need to know why.

He grasps me by the upper arms. “No! Don’t ever say that word! I was an idiot child when I called you that and I’ve regretted it for years! Those are my father’s words, Voldemort’s words, the words of a thousand of his followers who could never be as perfect as you. I’m sorry, I want you to know—” His chest is pitching as he tries to catch his breath, “I want you to know—I need you to know I never believed any of it. I can’t make excuses, I can’t justify any of it!” His face crumbles and he pushes his palms to his forehead forcefully, “Fuck, Granger, it was never you, don’t ever allow your life to be burdened by morons who were just sheep, who followed blindly because they had no heart, no spirit, not like you!”

He lets go and I stumble slightly, confounded by his speech.

“I need to go.” He’s rushing for the door like a dozen Buckbeak’s are chasing him.

I watch him, only recovering from his speech as he reaches the handle, about to let himself out. “No! I’ve found you and I won’t let you go back to that place now.” I walk towards him.

His eyes are on the door, no doubt embarrassed by his outburst.

“If I don’t go back, they might send me to Azkaban. I’ve done almost a year; I can do the rest.” I watch his back swell and retract as he awaits my answer.

Lioness, heroine, perfect, righteous, that’s what he said. In thirty minutes of speech, he reminded me of myself and berated me for ever thinking otherwise. “Then they,” I enunciate my words, “will have Hermione Granger to deal with!” I speak curtly. “The guest room is this way.” The last part came out far more huskily than I intended.

He turns and gives me a hesitant smile, his eyes following my pointed finger to the spare room. He walks inside and I leave him staring at me with a look of reverence on his face as I close the door and head to my own room to make a list. The first thing on it will be to find a way to tell Narcissa her son is safe. 

I grab my quill and notebook, clutching it to my chest as I giggle, I cant quite get my head around what just happened back there and I laugh because of what Ginny said when she left me earlier. When she said, ‘maybe take someone home' I’m not sure she meant for me to stumble across the boy who made all the wrong choices and let him stay in my guest room. 

He's still as handsome as ever, yes, I have eyes you know, and of course I wasn't immune to how gorgeous he was school, its just I would never have touched him with a ten foot barge pole because of the way he treated me. But now, there's just something in the way he moves, muscle shifts sensuously like liquid under his t-shirt, his eyes like magnetic quicksilver, with unmistakeable apology deep inside them. He's grown broader and taller in the past year and the flash of his tattoos had me feeling weak at the knees. I can still feel the echo of his large hands on my upper arms, the scent of his breath as he told me I was perfect. Mmm, I know I'm just drunk, but it doesn't stop my heart hammering pleasurably, or me imagining what a naked, wet, Draco Malfoy might look like as I hear the shower start up in the room next to mine.

I make a mental note as I drift off to get him some new clothes - what the hell was he wearing?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, welcome to your Thursday update. I've loved hearing your thoughts so far and thanks to everyone who has commented or given kudos.  
> We left Draco and Hermione in her apartment after a particularly gruelling evening, what will happen in the cold light of day?  
> Huge thanks to the lovely @badwolfjedi (aka bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her beta work and fabulous board.

 

**Draco**

 

I’ve been awake since four am, hardly snatching a few hours sleep in the more than comfortable bed, anxious about the snap decision Granger made last night for me to stay here. I know my parole officer will probably have put out an alert with the muggle police already when I didn’t return last night. It means I won’t be able to leave Granger’s flat, and as much as the view is gorgeous, I wonder if I’ll go stir crazy holed up here until things are sorted. I’m used to being outside all day and walking at night and I’m desperate for a cigarette by six, so I click my door open and wander into the lounge to the bank of windows. In the early dawn I can now see a large balcony filled with potted plants and a table, I take a few steps and quietly click the glass door open, taking in the amazing view of the whole of muggle London, looking even more breath-taking in the daylight. A murmuration of starling’s ebb and flow through the air like they’re riding waves on the ocean. I spark up my cigarette and wander over to a metal muggle contraption, I lift the lid and peer inside, wondering what the hell this thing is for.

“It’s a barbeque grill.” I hear Hermione Grangers voice behind me, “Muggles use it for cooking outdoors.”

I frown, wondering why she’d want to cook meals outside when she has her wand and a perfectly acceptable kitchen inside. When I turn, I see her dressed only in an ivory dressing gown, its satin hugging her curves in a way that should probably be illegal. I feel heat blooming in my cheeks and I glance away quickly as she places a tray on the table. The smell of fresh coffee wafts over my nostrils and I find my mouth desperately dry, whether that be from thirst or from looking at my stunning host. Her hair is tousled, much more contained than it was at school. Huh, so Hermione Granger finally found out how to rein in her shock of curls, I feel a little sad as I always loved it when it was wild, not that I’d have told her that then.

“I see you’ve found my favourite place to drink morning coffee?” She eyes the cigarette, “Although, I must say the air is a little fresher out here usually.”

There it is, the first snipe of the day from Granger, and to be on the receiving end seems like my dearest wish granted. “Yeah, err, bit of dirty habit I picked up from the muggles.” I look around for somewhere to stub it out. She sighs and finds me a small plant pot; I can’t help but watch her bend over as she retrieves it. I’m almost certain she isn’t wearing anything underneath the gown. Long gone are the childish, fluffy pyjamas of last night, in their place, satin ebbs and flows in the breeze. I struggle to clear my throat as I wonder if she slept naked right in the room next door to mine.

She wrinkles her nose as she hands it to me, “Those things will kill you.” She points out, with a raised eyebrow.

I shrug as I blow my last drag out. “Probably, but then some would be happy to see the back of me.”

She shakes her head with the hint of a grin touching the corners of her mouth. “I’ve made us some coffee and I brought my notebook, I thought you could tell me what happened after the trial. If I’m going to figure out what happened to you, then I think we need to make a plan of what to do next.”

I surprise myself by saying no, pursing my lips as I sit in the chair beside her. The wind blows the intoxicating scent of her hair products my way, coconut with a slight whiff of pineapple, strange, I thought Granger would be less tropical and into more old lady scents like gardenia or rose. I close my eyes, propping my elbows on the table and resting my forehead on templed fingertips.

“What do you mean, no? I may have had a few last night but I distinctly remember me offering to sort this mess out.”

I know she’s probably seething with me right now. I open my eyes and see I was right, haughty Granger’s ready to lobby the Minister on my behalf and I can’t let it happen, because I know last night’s attack was only the first attempt to shut her up and I can’t have her endanger herself for me. “I’ll return to the hostel and take my punishment, I’ve been there a year, and this is the first time I haven’t towed the line, they’ll give me a chance, I’m almost sure of it.”

She places her hands a width apart on the table before her, taking deep breaths as if trying to control her temper, then she says in a measured tone. “So, you’re telling me, that Draco Malfoy is prepared to roll over and play dead, just so the muggle Prime Minister gets his way? What next? What if they decide to keep your mouth shut by never returning you to the wizarding world? Or worse, decide to shut you up for good? You must know by now how muggle justice works, heard enough about it from your fellow hostel mates? You do something wrong; you get banged up in a muggle prison and somehow it becomes a vicious cycle, you put a foot out of line, and they give you more time. Crap, Draco, I’ve known of men lost for a lifetime in the prison system because they couldn’t help getting into trouble inside and they might’ve only committed a small offence in the first place. Sue me if I don’t want that for you!” She slams her hand down on the table, causing the coffee cups to rattle and threaten to spill.

I’m a little surprise by how adamant she is about this, she’s right, of course, but I’m tired of fighting to clear my name, its dogshit in the wizarding world and I can’t imagine they’ll be holding a bloody parade in Diagon Alley for me on my return. “Granger, if what happened last night is anything to go by, then either one of us could end up dead if whoever that bloke was realises you haven’t heeded his warning. The guy looked enough like a Death Eater for me to be afraid for you. What if he comes back? What if he knows where you live?”

“Then you’ll be here, and you can help protect me.” She states, crossing her arms tightly enough for me to find my eyes drawn to her breasts pushing against the sateen of her gown, her nipples standing to attention in the morning chill.

I shake my head and look away swiftly, unable to get the image out of my head. I berate myself for acting like a thirteen-year old who’s only just found his cock and massage my eyelids with the thumb and middle finger of my right hand. I gulp coffee down the coffee in my left and clinking the cup back down on its saucer. “So, you’re relying on protection from a cowardly ex-Death Eater with no wand?” My fists are now clenched on my thighs. I wonder if she really gets that this isn’t just another personal crusade, she could truly be in danger if there are Death Eaters involved, more so because nobody suspects an attack, they’re all sleeping soundly in their beds thinking the Ministry has anyone who could ever hurt them in Azkaban. I know some, but not many, escaped justice, and they’d likely be out for the blood of anyone within the Order, especially the most famous muggleborn of them all.

“I’ll stop by Ollivander's and get you a wand as soon as I can, and you’re not cowardly, you were scared, you did what was right in the end.” She turns in her seat to face me, hesitating before placing a gentle hand on my cheek and sighs. “Tell me you’re worth it, Draco. I think you are, but you have to believe it yourself or what’s the point in any of this?”

I close my eyes and lean into her hand; her skin is so soft I want to cover it with my own and stay like that forever. I lift my arm and rest my hand upon hers, revelling in the fact she’s called me by my name. Human contact is a strange thing, you can go without it as long as you don’t want it, but when the option is no longer there, you crave it, need it like a drug. It’s been nigh on a year since my mother hugged me, over three years since I felt the touch of a woman sexually. I feel her eyes on me, although she remains silent. When I open my eyes, I see hers burning with a heat I never thought I’d see in the gaze of the woman I’ve loved since I first saw her. Her eyes are darting back and forth as if she’s trying to read me. I glance at our arms, flinching as I see both of our marks beside each other for the first time. Mine is hidden amongst a mass of tattoos but it’s still visible, and hers—hers is as raw and angry as it looked the day it was carried out. She snaps her hand back, covering it instantly by pulling the cuff of her gown over it.

“I’m sorry, that was, I-I shouldn’t have touched you.” She blurts, adjusting her cuff and pulling it down as far as it will go over her wrist.

“I truly believe I’m not worth your time, Hermione,” I chance calling her by her first name, “but if you think I am then I’ll do what I can to help you.” She’s still looking flighty and I want to take her in my arms and soothe all her fears away. If only it were so easy to rid ourselves of years of hostility in twenty-four hours. I want to ask about her arm, why it hadn’t healed by now, but she looks a little unsteady, so I decide against it.

I hear the sound of the floo inside the lounge and freeze, as does she.

“Hermione! Hermione, you’ll never guess what! I went to Zabini’s and he—Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company, I-I’ll just, um, I’ll just leave.”

Hermione pales and she rises, striding past me and grabbing her friend by the arm and I sit as still as a statue, hoping not to be noticed. My back was to the door, so I can only hope Weaslette hasn’t recognised me.

………

**Hermione**

 

Holy crap! What a time for Ginny to arrive out of the blue, on the morning I’m harbouring a former Death Eater-Slytherin school mate in my flat. She never shows up like this, so it’s just typical she decides to this morning.

"You dark horse!" Ginny giggles, looking back the balcony and straining her neck to see who was out there, "A blonde eh? Ooh, hot tattoos, I didn't think you had it in you." 

"It's not what you think." I sigh, avoiding Ginny as she vibrates with excitement and I hope Draco doesn't decide to make himself known in a moment of madness.

"So, spill, what was he like? Did he make you scream?" She giggles, nudging me with her hip.

"In a roundabout way." I retort drily, glancing at the back of Malfoy’s head.

"Oh, Merlin, you've got to tell me all the juicy details." Her eyes are filled with excitement.

"Err, perhaps another time?" I have to get rid of her before she catches on that its Malfoy outside on the balcony.

"Oh, yeah," she winks conspiratorially, "ready for another round, I get it. Just stopped for some breakfast. Loads of sex gives you the munchies." 

"Something like that." I pacify her, while ushering her to the floo.

"Oh, before I go, I dropped in at the Zabini mansion, but he wasn't home, his house elf said she'd ask him to fire call me today, so I have to be going anyway, I don’t want mum scaring him off. Say goodbye to the future Mrs Zabini! Have fun!" She yells, taking a hand of floo powder and posing like a model as she disappeared.

I sigh with relief but then instantly jump as I hear Draco’s voice a step behind me, so close in fact, I can feel his breath waft over the nape of my neck. 

"What was that about Zabini?" 

I turn and he's within my personal space and I find my back against the counter so there’s no room to manoeuvre. "Um, s-she was just saying she called at his home last night, she was really drunk, and she's been going on about how good looking he is for ages. She tried to cover it up by suggesting I date him, err, because he's the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world and he's always on the cover of Witch Weekly." I find myself blushing under his gaze for some reason.

"So, what does that make you?" His voice is gravelled, and his eyes are roving over me, his head cocked to the side, I realise he’s assessing my reactions.

I don’t understand the question and my stomach clenches at his proximity, his heady scent makes me swoon, causing heat to bloom from my diaphragm, moving slowly lower, and lower—

"You were on the cover of Witch Weekly, the last copy I saw before I was sent away. Tell me, Hermione—" My name rolls off his tongue like honey, "are you the number one most eligible bachelorette?" 

My chest is heaving, and I close my eyes as he reaches out, taking a ringlet of my hair, the back of his hand brushing my cheek. I feel a little tug as he rolls it in his fingers, his eyes on mine the whole time. My eyelashes flutter and my scalp prickles as my heart begins to dance a salsa in my chest. "I-It doesn't mean anything, it's silly, you know I don’t waste my time on such trivial things." I whisper.

"So, there aren't hordes of beaux hammering down your door, sending you flowers, no boyfriend? I already know there's no imminent husband." He murmurs, capturing my left ring finger with his, leaning towards my ear, his breath causing a multiplicity of goosepimples to flush over my skin.

"No, there's nobody, nobody I've ever wanted enough, until—" The logical part of my brain is telling me this is wrong, that I shouldn't feel this way about him but my body is betraying me, the tops of my thighs are damp, just from the tone of his voice, like his words are caressing me intimately. I almost tell him, I almost say nobody else has ever made me feel this way, I’m so desperate for him to kiss me, touch me and I know it makes no sense. I take in his masculine scent, all his own and whatever soap he used in my shower.

"Until?"

I feel him splay his hand below my neck, just above my breasts, the feeling exquisite as he slides a calloused hand towards my jawline, lifting my head to meet his eyes, those same eyes flashing between molten metal and blackened arousal. Oh Godrick, this has escalated so fast I think I should fight it, only succeeding in letting out a moan as his thumb brushes the pulse point in my neck.

"Just like a beautiful hummingbird." He murmurs, his lips barely inches from mine.

I close my eyes to await the kiss and suddenly he's gone. Startled, I open my eyes and he's running his hands through his hair, looking like he's just made a huge mistake.

It takes me only seconds to recover, closing in on myself and clutching my gown up to my neck. "I-I should go and get dressed." I rush away, a sob rising in my throat before I slam my bedroom door, I hear him call out, "Hermione, I'm sorry."

Sorry doesn't make up for the fact I've made a complete fool of myself. How could I ever think he'd want me? Even though I thought we were friends. Getting down to brass tacks, he would never want anything less than a pureblood woman. He never said his prejudices were gone, just that he was sorry for the way he'd treated me and that I shouldn't call myself mudblood. I just thought—shit— I don't know what I thought! I've been through hell and I was just getting my life together and now he’s landed in my lap. I’m so confused. I just need to find out what's happened with the Ministry and Draco, get it sorted out and then send him home. I won't accomplish anything by thinking he desires me. I feel so stupid for even allowing him so close. He's probably been shagging anything that moves since he's been in muggle London, perhaps that's why he doesn't want to leave, why he tried to talk me out of helping this morning? Perhaps he’s happier this way?

I dress in my black suit, sliding on a white silk blouse and slipping on a pair of black pumps. That's it, dress in a power suit and I'll feel robust enough to brush this off and get on with things. I tie my hair in a low messy bun and stride from my room towards the floo. "I'm going to the office to pick up some wizarding law books. I'll be back in a few hours. There's food in the fridge, help yourself to anything—"

"Hermione—" He rushes towards me, his hands held out.

I don't let him speak, nor do I meet his eye, I just speak over him. "It's Saturday so there won't be any other distractions at the office, I'll be right back, and we can research the situation."

"Hermione, please—"

"I'll see you later, Malfoy."

...……

**Draco**

She called me Malfoy again, after I thought we were making some headway. If there was anyone who could so royally fuck things up it would be me. In fact, I'd be surprised if Hermione ever spoke to me again after my little display of cowardice. She looked so gorgeous, flushed and embarrassed when the Weasley girl left I couldn’t help but reach out and touch her. I was close to kissing her when my mind went into overdrive. I'd been waiting for her so long I didn't want to rush her into anything, so I took a step back, trying to push my feelings down and give her a bit of space, to allow her time to get to know me. If we kissed so early on, she'd just think it was because I needed her help and that me wanting her was only part of one of my schemes. She only knows me as manipulative Malfoy, used to getting what he wants by nefarious means. 

The look on her face when I stepped away almost broke my heart. I was instantly sorry, although I didn't get a chance to say so. I'm not used to dealing with feelings as I’ve never really cared about a woman before. Girls came and went at Hogwarts until 6th year, no pun intended, and I just moved on to the next one. Occasionally I'd hear tears in the common room, but Pansy told them to pull themselves together, that I was a shit and if they'd lowered themselves to sleep with me then they deserved everything they got. Pansy loved me, I saw it in her eyes, but she never put out for me and I respected that. Instead she sneered jealously at the other girls who did. I miss her, she died in the final battle and there will never be another like her, they broke the mould when they made her. I didn't need Pansy to tell me what I was, though, I knew exactly who I was. Looking back, I was an entitled prick who treated everybody like crap, and I wasn't the only one. Blaise bloody Zabini did too, and hearing his name earlier, even in the vaguest connection with Hermione, made me as jealous as hell, because he’s everything I no longer am, and he could give Hermione everything she’s ever dreamed of. I, however, can only give her a half-life as a shunned wife of a former Death Eater. My family name is ruined and I daresay my fortune has gone to the Ministry in recompense. Thankfully, it seemed Weaslette was after Zabini, but I think that's also what made me attempt to stake a claim on Hermione instead of biding my time and building a friendship with her like I intended. There’s no excuse for my behaviour. Look, I don't know what I'd have done if she was already involved with someone or engaged even. It's not like I can use my current situation as collateral to show her what a great life we'd have if she chose me, and being a monumental tosser really didn't help.

I don't know what else to do, so I make myself a bowl of cornflakes, a pot of tea and take a muggle book from her extensive bookcase. I snort at the title, Pride and Prejudice, ain't that the bloody truth.

...........

**Hermione**

I pick up the books I need and check the offices for signs of life. There's no sign of Kingsley and I really wanted to grill him over Draco, but I know I’ll have to tread carefully when I do finally speak with him, as jumping in and accusing him of virtually kidnapping Malfoy wouldn’t go down too well, I’d wager. I sit at my desk with a thump and look through some paperwork. I want to let Narcissa know I've found Draco, but how? Her owls are monitored in and out of the manor. I suppose I could go there. As a Ministry employee I would be allowed through Ministry set wards if I was able to provide a good enough reason, or perhaps I'd just need someone who would trust me enough to help.

I take the Ministry floo to Grimmauld Place, hoping Harry’s still home. I know he's on security detail at Malfoy Manor this weekend as he always leaves a copy of his work roster for me. I'm amused to find him seated at his kitchen table with his head in his hands and a half-drunk cup of tea before him.

"Morning?" I chuckle, "I see you've run out of Hangover potion?" 

"Yeah, and please don't talk so loudly, my head can't take it." He groans, looking a bit green around the gills.

"It's your lucky day, I have a vial in my bag." 

His bloodshot eyes light up and I watch his sour puss as he tries to keep the foul- tasting elixir down, banging his chest after he swallows and lets out a belch. 

"Lovely." I chastise, tidying away the bottles and setting the kitchen to rights. I’m used to Harry and Ron’s terrible manners after living in the tent with them for so long, although Ron’s were generally the worst.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I don't know how they continue to make that stuff so disgusting, it's like some form of punishment for having a good time."

"And did you? I mean, have a good time?"

"Yeah, me and Ron got totally smashed on Fire Whiskey, we would've invited you, but we know Friday’s your girl’s night."

"That's alright, Ginny and I had a good night." I pause, I know he's not going to like what I have to ask. "Err, I'm here because I need a big favour. Are you on security shift at Malfoy Manor today?" 

He stops nursing his tea and looks me dead in the eye. I can see suspicion cloud his eyes.

"Yeah, why?"

"The Malfoys have a book in their library I've been trying to get hold of for months, it'll help me with something I'm working on for the Minister. Flourish and Blotts can't get it for me for months as it has to be imported from Romania. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you sneak me in to have a quick conversation with Narcissa regarding borrowing it?" 

He peers over his glasses at me. "You know I'd do anything for you, but this is more than my jobs worth. I’m still in training and I’m not even supposed to speak to Narcissa." 

"I’m not asking you to, I'll be two minutes, she'll either allow it or she won't, it won't take long to find out."

"And tell me why I can't just ask for you?"

"Well, you just said you weren’t allowed, and it'll be better if I ask myself, I hardly think she'll accommodate the people who are keeping her under house arrest."

He sighs, "Alright, but you'll have to wait until Reggie leaves and then come through. I’ll have to erase any trace of you from the floo afterwards.”

I stand and give him a big sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Thank you!"

"You owe me big time for this." He grumbles, heading upstairs to get dressed.

..............

**Hermione**

The floo roars at the manor and an elderly house elf ambles along a few seconds later. 

"Pippy apologises Miss, the Mistress rarely receives visitors, Pippy thought it was the Auror’s arriving." The elderly elf looked cautiously at Harry who had taken his position beside the floo, his face carefully concealed under a professional mask. Merlin, this must be the most boring detail ever, but Harry once said all Auror’s take their turn, so they aren’t singling out the newcomers. 

"Pippy, please could you ask your Mistress if I may have a moment of her time."

Pippy disappears only to pop back almost instantly. "Mistress Malfoy will receive you in the morning room for tea."

I glance at Harry who shrugs, "You'll have to meet her alone, I'm not allowed to leave my post, don’t be long." 

Grimacing, as if meeting the Malfoy matriarch for tea will be a chore, I follow Pippy. I think he believed me; I really don't want to get in the habit of lying to my best friend, but I can’t allow him to become involved in this. Anyway, if he found out Malfoy was in my home, he’d flip his lid.

I walk into a beautiful sun lit room and Narcissa rises to greet me. I expect a haughty sneer, but I'm pleased to find a kindly smile greeting me.

"Miss Granger, I'm so happy to see you. I've been following your progress in the Prophet and Witch Weekly. Do sit down."

"Oh, I wouldn't believe what you read. I wouldn't have time for half of things they report me doing." I chuckle. We sit and she pours us each a cup of tea. “What wonderful roses.” I mention as I look out into the garden.

"I tend to them daily. Spending time outside keeps me active. Sugar, Miss Granger?" She pauses and watches me stare at the door, checking nobody is listening. "Is something amiss? I admit it's been a while since I've entertained but I assure you I have nothing but good intentions."

"Mrs Malfoy—"

"Do call me Narcissa." She interjects.

"Narcissa, I have word of Draco.” I whisper, “Please allow me to tell you what I know as I don't have much time. Harry will be along to shoo me away shortly. He believes I'm here to borrow a book from your library and I must leave with one to retain my cover."

"Mr Potter is your best friend, if you have deceived him then I believe there is good reason for it, dear girl, you have never been anything but honest from what I understand of your character." She clasps my hand, "What of Draco? Where is he? I've been terribly worried, and nobody will tell me a thing."

"I know, let's say I was privy to a piece of information I shouldn't have seen, informing me you were asking of his whereabouts. Narcissa, I was at the Wizengamot on the day of his trial. He was acquitted based on Harry's testimony and should have been given leave to return home."

"But Mr Potter has been here on Auror detail several times a week ever since the trial, why didn't he notice Draco wasn't here?"

"Harry probably didn't know anything either, I didn't—" I sigh, feeling sheepish for not caring about Draco’s whereabouts now I'm in his mother’s company, “I didn't notice, I assumed he was here, Harry probably assumed Draco was staying at another of your properties, perhaps because of the fact he would be surrounded by Auror’s here? Harry’s in training, he wouldn't be privy to any sensitive information." I stick up for my friend, but I also wonder if Harry never questioned Draco’s absence.

I barely have time to fill her in on the occurrences of the past year before we rush to the library to seek out the book. I've already been here twenty minutes longer than I should.

"Miss Granger, I beg you to use the loan of the book as an excuse to come again, if Mr. Potter will allow it, that is. Please, take care of my boy, you've already done so much, I hate to ask more of you. Please tell him I love him, and he is to come home as soon as he can. I'm entrusting him to you, I know you'll do what is right."

I move to leave once more and she grasps my hand, I see tears in her eyes.

“Miss Granger, I can never convey how sorry I am for what happened to you under my roof. It was despicable and I’ll regret it until the day I die.” She tells me earnestly.

“Thank you for addressing the erumpet in the room. Narcissa, there was no need as I’ll still help your son.”

“You misunderstand me, I’d always hoped to speak with you on the subject, I was never able to owl you to explain how terrible it all was. I had no control over my sister, she was crazed and cruel.” Her face crumples, and a tear drops to the floor between us. I’m shocked as I never thought the Malfoy matriarch would show any emotion, she was always so cool and collected.

“I know. Draco told me what happened here, you mustn’t spend your time worrying about things that you have no control over. You need to spend your time keeping yourself busy, so you don’t succumb to grief and loneliness. I’ll find a way to return your son to you, remember that on your bad days.” I understand what it feels like to live with yourself and suffer the consequences of war. Narcissa has a husband who’ll likely never return home and a son she thought she’d lost, at least I have my work and friends to keep me busy, I can’t help but feel sympathy for her, as she has no-one.

She squeezes my hand tightly as I leave with a book on Ancient Potions which I’ve always wanted to read and smile at Harry as Narcissa bids me a polite goodbye. "Sorry Harry, she's so starved for company, she barely allowed me to get a word in edgeways. She talked of me coming again and I know it’s not likely you’d agree but thank you for this, Harry." 

“I don’t know, Hermione, if anyone got wind of this then I’d be in shitloads of trouble, but I do feel sorry for her, we’re not allowed to talk to her, we just stand sentry here to stop her from leaving. It’s an awful life really.”

“So, does that mean you’ll allow me to visit her?”

“She deserves company of some sort; her husband may as well be dead, and I haven’t seen Malfoy return here in all the time I’ve been on duty here.” He shuffles his feet.

“She didn’t mention him; do you know where he is?” Ah, now were getting to the crux of it and I’m eager to find out what Harry knows.

“I heard he’s in France at one of the other Malfoy Estates, no doubt the little shit is living it up on his family’s money while his mother wastes away here. Still, what else would you expect? He didn’t deserve to go to Azkaban but that doesn’t make him a good person by default.” He scoffs.

“No, that’s true.” I agree, I hate that I’m turning into a very proficient liar, but I tell myself it’s all for the greater good. He’s right though, just because Draco has come to me for help, I shouldn’t totally forget who he was before.

“Thanks Harry, I’ll see you tomorrow night—” I blanch as I realise Sunday evening is games night at my flat, we usually have Sunday lunch at the Burrow and then Harry, Ron and Ginny come to mine in the evening. What the hell am I going to do with Malfoy?

“You alright, you look pale?” Harry asks.

“I forgot to eat breakfast, I must run and get something before I pass out. Bye!”

"Bye Hermione." He kept a straight face, looking every inch the protector, but gave me a cheeky wink as I left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events in this chapter are inevitable in a Dramione fic of this kind. I hope you enjoy it.  
> Huge thanks to badwolfjedi (bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her beta work and support for this story.

 

 

**Hermione**

 

“Dressing Potter now are we Granger?” A familiar smooth voice behind me makes me stiffen as I look at some black trousers and try to gauge Malfoys waist size. I already have some black and green cashmere jumpers, white shirts, boxer briefs, socks and a couple of casual t-shirts slung over my arm. I popped to Diagon Alley after my tea with Narcissa.

“They’re not _for_ Harry.” I snap. It’s very hot in Madam Malkins and I’m already feeling more than a little harassed while trying find clothes to fit Draco.

“A boyfriend then?” He leans casually against the wall beside the rail of trousers.

“Zabini, since when are you interested in my life? Is it because you’ve bedded every witch in the Western Hemisphere? Now you’re picking up the stragglers?” I snipe. Its below the belt but hopefully it will make him bugger off.

“Ooh, you wound me Granger,” He places his hands over his heart and staggers slightly, “why would you think I wouldn’t consider you before any other witch? I have to tell you, you fill out that skirt rather well, and I do love a woman’s pert bottom in a power suit, it gets me going in all sorts of ways.” He winks.

I want to sock him one in the face, but my hands are full, luckily for him. “Zabini, please don’t flatter yourself. Other women may fall at your feet, but I like to think they fall into two categories, the first are gold diggers and the second don’t have the common sense to realise they’ll be yesterday’s news once you have them.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me, dearest Granger, are you sure you don’t harbour a secret longing to fall into my bed?” He asks licentiously.

“Zabini, before I tell you to sod off, I will tell you how I know all this. It is because you allow the Prophet and various magazines to pick your life apart to the point where witches, such as I, only need pick up the paper of a morning to find out about your escapades. I think you are a lonely idiot who thinks bedding all these witches will fill a hole in your life and you’re sorely mistaken.” Its harsh but I believe it to be the truth.

“I have a little redhead in my thrall currently who might beg to disagree with you on that point, Granger. She came willingly and I didn’t even have to ask her. She’s a fine little toy to keep me entertained. She tells me you had a blonde at your flat the last time she arrived, in fact, she said his hair colour was platinum blonde. She said you picked him up on a night out. So, do tell me, what makes you any different to me? You’re allowed to have fun, but if I do, I’m a cad, is that it?”

I’m lost for words, why would Ginny even tell him that? I just tut and pull out two pairs of trousers from the rack.

He takes that as leave to continue his assessment of me. “It seems strange to me that you had a relationship with Weasley and Krum, both red and dark haired respectively, when it seems you may have had a thing for a certain platinum blonde housemate of mine.”

“T-that isn’t true, I would never even think of Malfoy in that way, don’t you remember how he bullied me?” I look at him for the first time, observing his smug look.

“It seems I’ve hit a nerve there, Granger. All I’ll say is, sometimes any attention is attention none the less when you’re a lonely bookworm.”

“Zabini, if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll hex your balls off.”

“Promises, promises, I like a wicked witch, it makes it all the more interesting, don’t you think?” He hoots.

“For perverts and Wizards who think too much of themselves.” I retort.

“Draco is a size eleven shoe, as I gather that’s what you’ll be buying next.” He hides a giggle behind his hand.

“W-what?” I stutter, feeling like a rabbit in the headlights. “I don’t know what you mean, these are for a friend, I don’t know how you’d think I’d have anything to do with Malfoy.” I push past him, taking my items to the checkout desk.

He wanders away chortling to himself, peering into a display case with belts. I rush over to the mens shoe department and pick a pair of black mens brogues, it’s the best I can do, I don’t know what Malfoy would like to wear, but he’ll have to deal with my choices for now. It wasn’t as if I could ask his mother to send him clothes or that I could be seen carrying even a few items from the manor under Harry’s watchful gaze.

I sling the shoes onto the desk and watch as the shop assistant bags them up. I can feel Zabini’s presence behind me, whistling a jaunty tune as I take out my Galleons and play the clerk. Rushing to the door I struggle to push through with all the items and drop a bag.

“Granger, I really don’t know why you just don’t have the shop send them on for you, rather than wrestling through the door in this unladylike manner.” He picks up the bag from the floor and follows me into the street. Leaning in towards my ear as he hangs the handle over my hand. “I’ve added a belt, Draco hates to wear trousers without one.” He opens the bag and drops it inside. “Do send my felicitations, I have wondered where he was hiding for all this time.”

A camera flashes a picture of us both with our heads close together. Great! That’s all I need, a headline story with me being connected with him. “Fuck off Zabini!” I reply before apparating home.

 

………

 

**Draco**

 

She comes home with several bags and swoops in like a breath of fresh air. She’s only been away a few hours, but it seemed like forever, especially as I was practicing what to say to her most of that time.

“Hermione, I’m sorry about earlier, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and I crossed the line.” I blurt.

She carries the bags to my room, the guest room, I can’t really lay claim to it when I don’t know whether she might toss me out on my ear for my earlier behaviour. I follow her and she begins laying clothes out on the bed.

“I had to guess your clothes size, and I could really only go on what you liked to wear at school. I’m not even sure any of it will fit.”

My eyes widen as I move forward to look at what she’s purchased for me. I know I don’t deserve any of it, but she never ceases to astound me with how far she’ll go to help someone. She truly deserves her Gryffindor Princess title. “These are from Madame Malkins, this is too much, I’ll repay every galleon you’ve spent.” I tell her as she lifts a jumper up and holds it to my chest, I think she’s trying to check if it will fit. I look at the waist size on a pair of trousers, “This is the right size, how did you know?”

She blushes, “I, um, took a guess, I know Harry’s size and you’re slimmer than him in the waist, but you seem stockier in the arms and shoulders since school, so I gauged it by that. I-I, brought these too.” She hands me some boxers with little dragons adorning them. I can’t help but laugh out loud. She smiles and it seems to ease the tension between us. “Consider them a gift, Malfoy as I don’t know what you’d wear when you needed to wash what you have on.”

She colours again and I wonder whether she’s thinking of me naked.

Giggling, she says, “There was this muggle advert on the telly once, where this hot model type went into a launderette and stripped off in front of everyone to wash his clothes. The women were all flustered and he just sat on a bench and ignored them.”

I actually know what a launderette is, as I’ve had to take my clothes there to wash them once a week since living in muggle London. Never have I seen anyone strip off though. I chuckle and relief washes over me that were at least on speaking terms. “I have some muggle money; I would like to repay you by buying you dinner from the takeaway.” I offer.

“There’s no need, I have enough money to last a lifetime.” She answers.

“No, but I want to, just to thank you for having me here. I don’t think I’ve made it known how much I appreciate it.”

“Alright then. Let’s do some research on your situation and later we’ll crack open a bottle of wine and order a takeaway. What do you like?”

I ponder a moment, “I love those little duck rolls from the Chinese restaurant, and the prawn chow mein, there’s a little takeaway near the hostel and I had to eat, so I tried all sorts, but I liked that the best.”

She grinned, “Wonders will never cease, Draco Malfoy eating Chinese food, I never thought I’d see the day.”

It’s my turn to feel embarrassed. I’m not sure I can adequately inform her of the changes in me since the war and I’d like to hope the changes are for the better, I even think my time with the muggles has taught me that there’s more to life than the drudgery of being part of highborn society.

She moves to the lounge and fills the kettle to make tea. It’s all so domestic here and I feel at home because she has a welcoming way about her, like I don’t need to ask for anything, she’s always one step ahead. She prepares some sandwiches and we sit at the dining table with our tea and lunch. “Now were a bit more organised, I’ll tell you about the tea I took with your mother this morning.”

“What? How is she? What did she say? How did you get in there when she’s on house arrest?”

“I’ll tell you everything from the beginning.” She smiles.

I adore that about her, she’s practical and doesn’t leave out any of the finer details as she relays what happened.

“And Potter said you can visit again?”

“Believe it or not, Harry does have a heart, he’s concerned she is lonely too but the Aurors aren’t allowed to converse with her, so she only has Pippy and the other elves for company. She said to tell you she loves you very much and,” She shuffles in her seat, “Um, she said she’s entrusting you to my care, whatever that means? You’re a grown man and you don’t need coddling, but I think she was happy to hear your safe here with me.”

I sit back in the chair, this woman is a wonder, she’s risking her job and her reputation to help me, and I don’t know what I can ever do to repay her.

 

…………..

 

**Hermione**

We spend the rest of the day reading and occasionally discussing anything we’ve found. Draco’s impressed by the extension charm I have on my bag, especially when I pull out ten tombs regarding Wizarding law and the other book from Malfoy Manor. He tells me he thinks his mother chose it as it specifically because it belonged to him and he’d know it instantly.

I ordered the food and he left the table as the evening drew in, taking a shower and returning smelling of my coconut body wash, his hair wet, dressed in his new trousers with an untucked shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His feet are bare, but there was only so much I could buy today, and slippers and pyjamas will have to wait for another trip. I try not to stare. He looks so sexy I have to remind myself to remain calm. I make a mental note to buy him some mens body wash and hair gel too. “You could do with a hair-cut, you’re looking too much like your father for my liking.” I snigger.

“Yeah, its longer than I’m used to, but I wasn’t sure about the muggle hairdressers, it seemed like there were too many contraptions in there, I was worried they might accidently cut it all off.” He looks embarrassed to tell me.

I snort with laughter. “You and your precious hair, Malfoy. Merlin, at school you were always preening and running your hands over it to check it was in place.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose a little lioness like you was doing staring at me while I was fussing with my hair?” He teases.

I’m so glad this morning is forgotten and we’re back to our easy banter. “Get over yourself, most of the time I was spying on you, although I had a healthy appreciation for the male form, you were—oh, never mind, it’s silly.” I don’t know how but every time we banter it feels like we’re flirting, and I need to put a stop to that, it’s how we ended up where we did this morning. I pour us both a glass of red wine and we sit on the sofa as we wait for our Chinese delivery to arrive.

“No, tell me, I’m intrigued to know what you really thought of me.” He turns to sit in the corner, his arm draped over the back of the sofa. I can see his tattoos again, more on his chest where his top three buttons are open, exposing them but I can’t see what they all are. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbow too, showing the intricate designs covering all available space, right down to his wrists.

“I think you’re opening a whole can of worms by asking me that.” I frown. I don’t want to end up in a fight with him over what a git he was.

“Alright, then I’ll let you off the hook. Why don’t you tell me who you fancied at school then?” He raises one eyebrow archly and I feel myself flush, is it hot in here? I’m sure it’s got terribly hot. That’s letting me off the hook? I don’t think so.

“I, um, well, I didn’t spend much time looking at boys, obviously there was Viktor, but he hardly spoke, and he was a bit handsy. He was a good kisser and h-he had a nice body.” I stutter, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my neck. This isn’t the most comfortable of conversations, but I won’t let him win, I know he’s trying to torment me in a playful way.

“Saw it all, did you?” A shadow crosses his face but then he’s grinning again.

“Well, err, there was one time when he asked me to meet him after Quidditch practice and he came to the door of the boys changing rooms with a small towel wrapped around his waist. He was—” My face must be as red as a beetroot.

“Alright, I get the picture.” He smirks, “So, who else?”

“There was that date with McLaggen in sixth year, he was a total prick and told me he’d have me if it was the last thing he ever did.” I let out a roar of laughter at that and Malfoy looks like he doesn’t get it. “He tried it on with me and I hexed him in the balls, he never tried again after that.” Tears are in my eyes and I hold my stomach as I try to recover from my mirth.

“That bloke needed hexing in the balls, he was always an idiot.” Draco agrees. “Anyone else?”

I don’t want to say it but I’m nothing if not honest. “I thought you were handsome.” I admit, “You always had a lovely smile when you weren’t sneering, sometimes you’d laugh at something one of your housemates said and you looked so carefree it made me wonder how you could ever be so nasty. Of course, that was before the Astronomy tower and what happened after.” I can’t meet his eye. It feels like we’re stuck on a merry-go-round which keeps bringing us back to the same point, his treatment of me.

He sits up and carefully takes my hand. “I’ll apologise to you as many times as it takes for you to believe that I was just young, entitled and stupid. I’ll get on my knees if it helps.” And he slides off onto the floor and takes my wine, setting it on the coffee table, taking my hands in his. “Please believe me when I say how sorry I am for everything, I know my apology won’t compensate for any of it, but I want to make it up to you in any way possible.”

He rubs his thumbs over the tops of my fingers, and I start as the intercom buzzer goes off. “The foods here.” I smile, rushing for the door wishing we hadn’t been interrupted.

We eat in virtual silence and Draco rises to rustle around in the bag the food was delivered in. “Aha!” He exclaims, waving the fortune cookies in the air, “Muggle prophecies! I love these!” He beams and for a moment I’m glad to be on the receiving end of fun Draco.

He passes me my fortune cookie and watches eagerly for me to open the packet and crack open the cookie. I pull the small piece of paper from within and let out a guffaw, “Oh Merlin, this one is hilarious. ‘Never wear your best pants when you fight for freedom!’” I hold my belly as I laugh. Draco’s watching me with uncertain eyes, I suppose he’s concerned any reminder of the war might upset me, but in fact, this fortune is so apt its hilarious. “I hope I won’t need to fight for freedom again, but I’ll be certain not to wear my best trousers if I do.”

He’s shaking his head at my joviality. “Mine says,” He pauses, his eyelashes fluttering for a moment. “It says, ‘flattery will go far tonight’.”

“It does not!” I don’t believe him and yell out, trying to grab it and laughing so much I nearly fall off my chair. He grabs my arm to steady me and we’re way too close again. “I’m sorry, I got carried away, too much wine perhaps?” I stand but he doesn’t let go of my arm, instead he pulls me onto his lap, encircling me in his arms. It feels too good to resist and I allow him to pull me close.

“Is this OK?” He murmurs.

I nod, still giving myself a thorough scolding for getting so close to him again.

“I just wanted to apologise for earlier,” His voice is low and a little desperate.

I start to move but he continues to hold me loosely and I know I can leave his arms if I want to, I just don’t.

“It was never my intention to make you feel rejected, and if the truth be told it was my own fear of you rejecting me that made me stop before kissing you. I’ve only ever felt emptiness in my heart, but you somehow found your way inside a place in me I thought was long dead. I need to tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and I’ve thought it ever since I met you. You’re feisty, while being kind and caring, you’ve put your life on the line for me more than once and I just wanted to tell you it would be an honour if you’d allow me to kiss you, Hermione Granger.” His hand is on my cheek and his lips barely bush mine, his kiss tentative as he gently nips my lower lip with his teeth. I become aware that I’m sitting on evidence of his arousal and my nipples harden as a bolt of electricity wizzes the length of my spine.

The floo whooshes to life and Harry steps through into the lounge, his eyes homing in on Draco and me immediately. I don’t have time to move.

“What in Merlin’s bollocks is this git doing here?” Harry’s striding forward and he pulls me from Draco’s lap, pushing me out of the way as he takes Draco by the throat. “If you’ve done anything to her, I’ll kill you! Don’t think I won’t because I didn’t last time!”

“Harry, please! Get off him, he’s done nothing wrong!” I scream and Harry releases him.

“Oh, please. So, Draco Malfoy just happened to drop by for a bloody takeaway and a bit of slap and tickle with the princess of all muggleborns?”

There’s a loud crack as I smack Harry’s face. He recovers swiftly and looks down at me like I’m some stranger he doesn’t know at all. Draco is standing beside me watching us both.

“Potter, this isn’t what you think—” Draco tries to intervene.

Harry points a finger at Draco without breaking eye contact with me and looks like he could murder me. I’m not afraid, I know he’s just very angry. “Do not say another word, Malfoy!” He cautions. “Hermione, I came to warn you that the Auror division received an anonymous letter stating an ex-Death Eater was staying in your home in muggle London. Robards gave me the heads up, he told me to warn you that they’d be looking into your life very closely as they investigated the claim. Of course,” He laughed bitterly, “I told them that you’d never do anything like that, I told them this person must be having a laugh, but I came to tell you anyway, and what do I find? You and Malfoy snogging at your kitchen table. I wonder what would’ve been for dessert if I hadn’t arrived? Tart a la Hermione?”

I raise my hand to slap him again and he grabs my wrist before I do. This is a red rag to a bull as Malfoy jumps him, laying a punch to his jaw which sends a spray of blood flying over my cream coloured couch.

“No, stop this!” I’m screaming as they wrestle on the carpet, both getting a few good punches in. “Please, don’t hurt each other!” I cry out. Oh, god, this is awful, where’s my wand? I need my wand so I can make them stop. I can’t find it and find myself watching with my heart in my throat. They tire after several rounds of the room, breaking my coffee table and one of the glass panels to the terrace and then begin arguing instead.

“How is it you wheedled your way into her life?” Harry’s wiping his bloodied nose with the hem of his shirt.

“As per usual, Potter, you’ve come in here like an erumpet in a tea shop and you don’t know a thing about any of this!” Draco hollers.

“I know Hermione lied to me today and she’s never lied to me—that’s your doing!” He pokes Draco in the chest then turns to me, “Wanting a book from his mother, Hermione? Now I’ve put two and two together, and you even asked me if I knew where Malfoy was, knowing you’d created a little love nest here! How long has it been going on?” He demands.

“Don’t talk to her like that, or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born, Potter!” Draco spits out, sneering in that familiar way. He’s virtually vibrating with anger, and I cross the room to stand between them, trying to avoid further bloodshed.

“Please, don’t fight again, it’s all my fault, I should’ve told you Harry.” Tears are running down my face as the three of us stand in a room filled with broken furniture.

“Damn right you should’ve, I’ll ask you again, how long has this been going on?”

“Only a few days, but there’s more—”

Harry doesn’t let me finish, “Don’t tell me, you met him somewhere, absolved him of his sins, took him home and you’ve been shagging ever since?”

“I’m warning you Potter!” Draco growls.

“Will you just stop this!” I screech, hurting even my own ears. Harry stops and looks at me.

“Go on then, fill me in on the sordid details.” He takes off his broken glasses and blinks at me.

“This isn’t what you think. The Ministry are at fault here, they sent him to muggle London for two years, even though he was acquitted, I’ve been trying to help him find out. I-I was attacked last night, and he saved me in a park near here. The attacker warned me off looking for him, I’d found a memo I shouldn’t have seen at work and it made me begin to search for him, because whatever you think of Draco, what they’ve done is wrong and you know I won’t stand by when I see injustice.”

Harry runs his hand through his hair, causing it to spike up. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” He takes a step closer, ignoring Draco’s snort of annoyance.

“I am fine, apart from my best friend and my—o-other friend wrecking my house as they fight to the death over a misunderstanding. Look,” I step closer to Harry, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you saw what you saw. Draco and I have talked a lot over the past few days, and we’ve got closer and we kissed, but it’s not a crime, we’re both adults and I won’t have you come here and slut shame me when you don’t know what’s happening. I suggest you leave if you don’t plan to speak with me like a decent human being.”

Harry sighs deeply and hangs his head in shame. “I’m sorry, but you can see what this looks like.” He takes out his wand and begins to clear up the mess around him.

“Why don’t you both sit down, I’ll get some Dittany, although I wonder if I should just leave you both to suffer.”

“What?” Draco splutters, “I wasn’t going to let him speak to you like that!”

I sigh deeply, “Hasn’t the war taught either of you anything? We only used violence because the other side chose to use violence against us.”

“So, once more were back on this track! Well, I’ll be in my room if you want me.” He strode off and slammed the door behind him.

Harry chuckled, “Still as childish as ever.”

I squeeze my lips together to reign in my temper. “I think that’s rather like the pot calling the kettle isn’t it?”

“Oh, for Christs sake, you can hardly compare us. I thought you were in danger!” Harry whimpers as he splits his lip further in a grimace and a dribble of blood runs down his chin.

I rush to my bathroom to grab the Dittany and on my return lift up the dropper from the healing salve and place a few drops on his lip. “Yes, and you treated me like one of the criminals you were about to arrest. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, you’ve never distrusted my actions before.”

“You’ve never lied to me before.”

I deflate and sit beside him on the sofa, he’s right. “It was necessary. I didn’t want you involved in this. I know I’m risking my career by even investigating, I didn’t want you dragged into it too.”

“Hermione, if you’d asked me, I might not have walked in on—” he waves a hand, “whatever that was.”

“To be truthful, I’m not even sure what it was. All I know is I’ve been lonely for a long time and he makes me feel differently to other men. The men I’ve dated before don’t challenge me like he does, I can’t explain it, when he smiles, like really smiles—” I stop my sentence there and my mind wanders as I stare at the door to the guest room.

“This isn’t what I wanted for you, Hermione, you know what getting involved with someone like him means, it means a lifetime of people shunning you for being with a former Death Eater. The way they’ll treat him will be the same way they treat you; can’t you see that?”

“Harry, it was just a kiss, I haven’t said I’m going to marry him. I don’t even know if he wants me in that way. He’s been away from home for a long time and it changed him, if only you could see how much.” I’m tired now and the whole evening has been ruined. I rise to pour Fire Whiskey into three crystal tumblers, pass one to Harry and then walk to the door to the guest room. I knock gently.

“I don’t want to hear it Granger.” He calls from within, but I push the door open regardless.

“Here.” I walk to the bed where he lays with an arm strewn over his eyes. “Can I look at your eye?” When he doesn’t speak, I sit gently beside him and place a hand on his arm. He moves it from his eyes, and I see the cut is still raw and angry where Harry punched him, blooming into a huge purple and red bruise.  “I didn’t want this to happen; can you see why I didn’t tell anyone else about you now?”

“I understood that part Hermione, I agreed with you, but it’s like everything I ever do in my life makes me accountable to Potter in some way, he followed me all through sixth year. He was there under the Astronomy tower, now he’s here again when I’ve done something he thinks isn’t right. I feel like I’ll never get rid of him until my dying day. It’s like he has this hyperfixation on me, and he’ll always be there, whatever I do.”

I use the Dittany on the cut beside his eye and he hisses as it heals.

“Do you think you did something wrong by, um, wanting to kiss me?” I can’t look at him when I ask because I’m afraid of the answer.

I feel him watching me and he finally takes my hand and lifts it to plant a soft kiss on my knuckles. “No, I don’t regret what happened. The truth is, I’ve had feelings for you for many years, and I always wished things could be different. Now Potter knows, I suppose he’ll talk you into believing its best nothing further happens between us, he’ll tell you how I’m rotten to the core and unsalvageable, he’ll tell you not to waste your time on someone who’ll never be redeemed in Wizarding societies eyes, let alone be good enough for you. I think it’s best for me to go, I’ll take whatever punishment I’m due until you can find a way to get me back to my mother.”

I stand and fling open the door so both wizards are staring at me wide eyed. I imagine I look a little like a wild haired banshee as a rush of ire courses through me. “Why is it that you men are always thinking you know what I’m going to do next? I can’t believe you think that I would risk a spot of happiness in an otherwise darkened world because my best friend tells me not to. I think you neglect to remember that anything I do is my choice! Bearing that in mind, Draco, you will remain in my flat, I will not be dictated to by my best friend, however good his intensions are—” My eyes are on Harry, “and we will all work on this together. If you want to help me, Harry, then you need to decide now whether you are willing to dob me in.”

Harry stands, walking towards me with a contrite look. “Never! Of course, I’ll help you, haven’t I always been there for you? I’m just hurt I suppose, we always told each other everything and now you’ve kept this from me I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

I’m not surprised by him siding with me and walk over and hug him tightly. “We need each other, we always will, but we’re adults now and there will be times where we need privacy, occasions where we won’t be able to tell each other every detail of our lives. Merlin, for example, I wouldn’t want to know about whomever _you_ choose to shag.” I chuckle, flushing as I realise what I’ve just said. I glance up at Draco who looks like the cat who’s had the cream. His smirk makes me tremble again as there’s one thing certain, Draco Malfoy has me under his spell and, however mad it makes Harry, I’m not sure I want that spell broken.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We left Hermione trying to calm down Draco and Harry following their altercation. There are a few surprises in this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your reviews and kudos and a special thanks to @badwolfjedi (@bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her excellent beta work and support, she truly is a great friend.

 

 

**Draco**

However much I try not to show how much that little conversation has elated me, I can’t help but smirk at a flustered Hermione. What was it she said? Oh yeah, _for example, I wouldn’t want to know about whomever you choose to shag_ , she might as well have said I’m going to shag Draco and I won’t be telling _you_ the details. It was delicious, however, her pleading look asking me to hold my tongue afterwards wasn’t so much fun. Her look said many things, don’t make things worse Draco, please let’s all try to get on for my sake, please don’t bait him anymore. It amazes me how expressive her eyes are, she can tell a whole story with them. Anyway, I suppose after flouncing off to the bedroom like a moody teen I ought to be the bigger man here. After all, I think we really need his help, Hermione could be in danger wherever she goes and it would be useful to have an extra pair of eyes on her, even if it is Scarface.

I stand and walk to Potter, who moves before Hermione and stands tall at less than my six feet. I look down at him and hold out my hand. “I apologise for being the one to throw the first punch.” That’s all he’s getting, so it’s now up to him. I won’t apologise for hitting him for the way he spoke to Hermione.

He narrows his eyes but reaches his hand out to shake mine and Hermione’s eyes crinkle as she let out a sigh of happiness, along with a dopey grin. It was worth my apology just to observe how happy it made her.

Potter releases my hand and shoves his hands in his pockets, returning to sit on the sofa, he takes his tumbler and throws its contents down in one shot. “Hermione, a re-fill if you please, I have the strangest feeling hell just froze over.”

I have to admit, the bloke can be amusing when he wants to be, I grab my glass and a pack of cigarettes, walking to the door to the balcony. Hermione refills Harrys glass as I open it.

“Can I cadge one of those Malfoy?” Harry asks as I’m just about to exit.

“Harry! Don’t you dare!” Hermione slaps his shoulder.

“I know, I know, it’s a disgusting habit but the guys got me into it when we spend late nights on stakeouts, it staves off the hunger and boredom.” He tries to make the excuse, but I can see it doesn’t wash with Hermione one bit. She tuts and begins to use her wand to remove the blood from her cream coloured sofa.

Potter accepts a cig and my offer of a light. I watch his face flicker in the darkness. “I suppose you’re out here to lecture me or to tell me you’ll kill me if I hurt her?”

“Why ever would you think that?” Potter asks in a mocking voice as he blows out a large billow of smoke.

“Because I know you, I know her having anything to do with me is eating you up.”

“Even if it were, she’s right, it’s not my business who she chooses to—” It seems like he reviews his words before continuing, “date, or who she chooses to spend time with, or even who she has stay at her place. Hell, if Hermione decided to house all the Death Eaters in Azkaban as part of a weird hareem, there’s nothing I can do to stop her when she gets her stubborn head on.”

I chuckle at that, though I don’t much like the thought of Hermione having anything to do with those bastards in Azkaban.

He continues, “I’ve been thinking. It seems the Minister made some trade for the devastation of muggle London during the war, sending you to them as a kind of penance, for whatever good it’s done.” He smirks. I’m interested in his theory, so I let it slide. “I think the reason they don’t want anyone finding out is because it might bring the spotlight back on the trials of the Death Eaters, kind of make them invalid, or able to ask for a retrial because of a fundamental error in judgement by the Ministry, you know?”

He’s perceptive, this one, I’ll give him that. I hadn’t thought of it in that way, and neither had Hermione. I nod and he continues to tell me his thoughts.

“As far as I remember from my training, that means a retrial could not take place using the original jury of the Wizangamot, it would leave only those unable to attend on the day of each individual trial as the jury, probably a very small number. It would also mean witnesses would have to take the stand again, retelling something that wasn’t as fresh in their minds as the first time, thus making it harder to convict.”

“Potter, that is the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you come out with.” I give him a sardonic grin.

He huffs but doesn’t rise to my taunt. “On top of that, we need to know who this attacker might be. It could be a supporter of the Death Eaters sent to threaten Hermione, knowing she’ll never give in to that type of menace, therefore coercing her into freeing you and telling the world what happened. Or, it could be someone working on behalf of the Ministry who is trying to shut her up.”

“Potter, that’s a brilliant piece of deduction.” I have to say I’m impressed. Perhaps he is in the right job after all.

“Yeah, well it’s my job to think as dark wizards do.” He informs me.

I don’t know what to say to that.

“So, why are you suddenly snogging someone who you hated all through school?” He asks, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and watching the smoke flitter away over the bright city lights.

“I didn’t hate her, and I’ve already told her I can only blame my upbringing for that particular unpleasantness, along with the fact I was a lowlife scumbag to her because, somehow, it was the only way to get her attention.” I feel even worse admitting this to Potter.

“So, in getting her attention, you tripped her and made her hurt herself on several occasions, made her cry in my arms when you’d been particularly evil to her and encouraged your housemates to laugh at her at every given opportunity. I’m sorry if I find it hard to believe you had feelings for her which resulted in that behaviour, Malfoy.”

“Nevertheless, I did.” Merlin, this is hard. “I was jealous of you three, you had her, and she smiled at you and the Weasel like the sun shone out of your arses. She was always fussing over you like a mother hen and I don’t believe either of you would have done one bit of your homework if she hadn’t been in the library every night, forcing you to do it.”

Potter gives me a wry smile. “You’re right there, which is why I will give you the ultimatum I’m about to give. If you’re prepared to stay, you never hurt her again, you make her happy and give her everything she deserves, and I mean the whole hog, in it for the long haul, family, kids, the lot, if she wants that. If you aren’t prepared to do that, I’ll move you to a safe house where I will continue to help you, because I, much like her, cannot stand to see injustice. It would just mean you wouldn’t need to live here. The choice is yours.” He blows out another cloud of smoke into the air. “Oh, and one last thing, I won’t be informing Ron of any of this, because if you think our fight was bad, it is only a quarter of the beating you’d get from him if he knew you and Hermione were involved. He will find out eventually, but at this point I feel it’s a fight we could do without. Now, let’s have a drink and talk through what we’ll do next.”

I turn and see Hermione wringing her hands anxiously on the other side of the window, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the glass in the other. It looks like her equilibrium has been upset by our fight and she’s headed right for her crutch.

We walk back towards the door after stubbing out our cigarette butts in the small plant pot. Before we go back inside I stop and tell him my decision, it wasn’t a difficult one to make, of course I’ll stay with her if she’ll have me and I was already prepared to give her everything I was able to give, which truthfully, isn’t much. “I’ll be staying, but then I think you knew that?” He nods and moves to walk again. “Just one other thing, Potter, Hermione seems to have developed a bit of a reliance on alcohol to deal with stressful situations, how long has it been going on?”

He looks to Hermione as she tops her glass up again. “I suppose since the war, we all have our ways of coping. I admit I never really thought anything of it, but I think perhaps I might talk to her another time about it, I don’t think now’s the right moment. We all have something we do to deal with the nightmares, I started running after the war, it clears my head, Ron shags anything that moves and has taken up pro-wizard chess tournaments, but we’re all fucked up still.”

As we’re admitting our deepest darkest secrets, I tell him, “I’ve just spent a year sober with nothing to take the edge off. I walk for miles at night or did until I came here. It’s how I found her that night. The nightmares, her screams, I’d do anything to make it better for her.”

“Since we’re on the subject. I should’ve thanked you for not giving us up that day, it would’ve been worse if your bitch aunt called Voldemort and I know you risked your life to do that.”

I’m silent, it was hardly anything compared to what she went through at the hands of Bellatrix. “You already thanked me by testifying on my behalf. Regardless of me ending up in this situation, it would’ve been ten times worse for me if you didn’t. You have my eternal gratitude.”

“It’s like I said,” He replied, “Us Gryffindors can’t stand by and watch injustice done.”

We return inside and I’m glad that’s the end of that tense conversation.

………………

**Hermione**

What’s taking them so long? My hands are shaking at the fact that they might fight again, and someone might get thrown over the balcony of my penthouse suite. Its ten floors to the ground, and Draco doesn’t have a wand. I rush to grab the Fire whiskey and pour a glass to steady my nerves, swiftly pouring a second after gulping down the first.

They come back inside after the longest fifteen minutes of my life, both looking like they seem to have come to a truce.

“Another drink?” I hold the bottle up and Harry nods. I see to it we all have full glasses and we sit at the table. Our research from earlier is spread out on one end of the table suitable for twelve people.

“Potter has some theories on why you were attacked which I think are very interesting.” Draco takes my hand under the table, running his thumb in circles over my palm and I relax as Harry relays what they discussed outside.

“That’s wonderful Harry, so what do we do next?” Thank goodness he has come up with some potential leads.

“I have access to the Malfoy files; I need to convince Robards to let me take the case. It won’t be easy, as officially I’m still in training, but I can do no wrong in his eyes, so perhaps I can negotiate to work on it with a trained Auror. As far as he’s concerned, it’s an anonymous tip which he doesn’t think will lead to anything.”

This makes me uneasy. “Wont he think you’re too close, seeing that it’s about me?”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to convince him I’m professional, he knows I also have history with Malfoy, and I testified for him but still got the job. To be honest I probably have history with every criminal in the Wizarding world who sympathised with Voldemort, which is most of them. If he were to stop me working on a case for that reason alone, I wouldn’t have anything to do.”

Draco speaks next. “Are you able to get word to my mother that I’m still safe? I don’t think it’s a good idea for Hermione to return to the Manor if you’re keeping up the pretence of keeping your nose clean, also, I don’t want her to be seen anywhere she shouldn’t be if she’s under investigation.”

“You’re right. Hermione, I’d like you to keep doing everything as normal. Your nights out with Ginny, the hours you usually work, attend the functions with the Minister and keep your ear to the ground.” Harry strokes his beard for a few seconds. “I don’t want to believe Kingsley is capable of this, he’s always been honest and reliable, I’ve trusted him with my life. It’s hard to believe he’s involved, but from this moment, trust no one at the Ministry, do not tell another soul about what we’re doing here and Malfoy,” He sits back in the chair, grabbing his lower leg and pulling it across his lap, “you mustn’t leave this flat. I’ll try to find out what’s happened with your parole officer, but you can’t risk revealing yourself, even to go to the shop for cigarettes.”

I squeeze Draco’s’ hand and he agrees with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head.

Sometime later Harry leaves, we’ve just been chatting on the sofa for the last hour, drinking and reminiscing our schooldays, sticking to the topics which we know won’t cause contention. It’s a contrast to how the evening began and I think Draco and Harry can almost be described as friendly by the end of the night.

I feel my eyes drooping and reach up to pull a throw over myself as I listen to male voices murmuring as they converse.

“I’d better be going; I’ve got another shift at the manor tomorrow morning.” Harry explains, “Look at her, she’s out for the count.”

I’m barely awake, but I hear Draco’s reply. “It’s been a long day but I have to say I’m glad you came; I don’t want everything on her shoulders, and I wish I could help more.”

“You’re helping already, Malfoy, just take care of her. Night.”

The floo whooshes and a pair of strong arms lift me and carry me to my room, removing my shoes, placing me in my bed and covering me with a duvet.

“Night, Hermione, sweet dreams.” Draco whispers as he kisses my forehead tenderly.

…………….

**Hermione**

The next morning is Sunday, the day I have to go to the Burrow and tell them I need to cancel games night. I know Harry wants me to continue as usual but having all my friends there while Draco hides in the spare room is madness, so it’s the only thing to be done.

“Morning sunshine.” I call out from the balcony as I see Draco amble sleepily out of his room, rubbing his eyes. I remind myself I must get him some pyjamas, but the sight I’m beholding encourages me otherwise as he stretches, his t-shirt riding up to give me an amazing view of his lower torso, over his somewhat tight boxers. I bite my lip, and he looks up sharply, probably not expecting to see me so early on a Sunday, even if it’s now eleven.  

Wandering outside, he rubs his head and reaches out blindly for the coffee pot, his hair flopping over his eyes, which makes him look adorable.

“Sweet Salazar, I can feel that whiskey throbbing in my skull this morning, it’s certainly reminding me I haven’t had a drink in a year. In fact, I don’t think I ever want to again.” He groans.

“I think I have a potion in my bathroom, I’ll get it for you.” I walk behind him, desperately wanting to drop a kiss on his head, but I don’t think we’re in that kind of relationship territory yet, in fact, we’ve barely begun.

“I’ll love you forever if you can make this pain stop.” He whines, freezing when he realises what he’s just said.

I can’t help but chuckle and tease him further. “I’m not sure it requires a lifetime of devotion, Draco, but feel free to offer any payment you wish in kind.”

He’s watching me as I saunter away in the deliberately short robe I chose this morning, a white silk kimono with a Chinese dragon on the back. I know it’s inappropriate, but what’s a girl to do when she’s only received a half snog before her best friend burst in and ruined the party? I’d like it to happen again before I’m in my dotage, so I thought I’d send some signals out to tell him I’m very much interested in sitting on his lap and continuing where we left off. Yup, even I’ve asked myself, who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger.

He looks me up and down as I return with the potion as the wind whips what little is covering my lower half, exposing my upper thighs. He takes the potion and gulps it back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Taking a bit of a risk wearing so little in this wind aren’t you, Granger?” He grins wolfishly.

I stretch my arms above my head and giggle as his eyes almost pop out of his head at my already short robe moving further up my thighs.

He splutters, “Merlin’s hairy bollocks, do you know what you’re doing to me witch?”

Yes. Yes, I do, and I feel a great sense of pride that I’ve made him lose his cool in the process.

“Well then,” he blinks rapidly, “I’m not sure I would ever expect to get the come on so blatantly from you Miss Granger.”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that, you sound like your father when you call me Miss Granger.” Oops, never, ever reveal your kryptonite to Draco Malfoy. As predicted, he jumped right on it and moved up behind me.

“Aaand you must be Miss Granger I presume, Draco’s told me all about you.” He says, mimicking his father and snorting with laughter as I rush to escape him. “Miss Granger if it rains on this roof terrace, you’ll be the very first to know.” He says nasally and both of us are hooting with laughter. It would probably seem a very sick game to play to an outsider, but I’m almost dying of hyperventilation as he imitates Lucius and he catches me around the waist, spinning me into his arms. He quiets down, his breath causing his chest to expand and contract, his eyes sparkling. “I think you ought to know that I am the only Malfoy that matters.” He uses his forefinger to tip my chin up and then, holy Merlin and Morgana, his lips are on mine and the whole world drops away. He pulls me flush with his body, his hands on my hips as he slides his hand around to cup my head at the nape of my neck, tilting my head and deepening the kiss. I feel the slow glide of his tongue against mine and his free hand slide down to take hold of my buttock, lifting my hips so they meet his. When he rotates his hips against me, I feel clear evidence of his arousal and gasp. He pauses, leaning back for a moment.

“Too much?” His voice rasps.

I clear my throat, breathing erratically, “No, not at all.” I shake my head.

He watches my responses as he fingers the collar of my gown just above my breasts, splaying his hand over my décolletage and moving agonisingly slowly towards my erect nipple, sliding the palm of his hand over the tip. I let out an involuntary moan, dropping my head back and exposing my neck to him. He takes the cue and begins to suckle and kiss the length of my neck, his other hand dropping to take hold of my thigh and draw it up to his waist. He moves his hips once more, causing delightful friction over my clit, the only thing separating us both, the lace of my knickers and the cotton of his boxers. My legs tremble and I’m willing to jump him and ride him into oblivion, but it’s he who breaks it off. I’m still in his arms, he doesn’t make me feel rejected.

“I think we’d better not take this any further right now, I’m liable to take you to bed and never let you leave, and you said you have to be at the Burrow for lunch in thirty minutes. You don’t want the little red-head coming here looking for you.” His voice is hoarse and to stay in his arms is so very tempting. I glance at my watch and he’s right, however much I want it not to be so. “Shit!”

He nips at my lower lip and moves to kiss my cheek, whispering in my ear. “To be continued?”

“Definitely.” I say breathlessly, standing on my toes and planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

……………

**Draco**

Hermione leaves me to go to the Burrow after showing me how to use the VCR player and setting me up with a pile of films she said I must watch before I die. Seeing as each film is 2 hours long, I hope she isn’t using it as some sort of prophecy for my early demise.

I’m watching a film called To Kill a Mockingbird, it’s not in colour like the one at the cinema but it’s quite compelling.

The floo roars to life and I call over without looking, “What have you forgotten Hermione?” I chuckle, she’s usually so organised. I freeze as a familiar voice speaks from behind me.

“Hermione is it? On first names with the mudblood now are we? As well as living with her.”

Its fucking Zabini. We haven’t spoken since the final battle, since he ran off and left me alone to save his own hide. “How the fuck are you here?” This is not good, no one knows I’m here apart from Hermione and Potter.

“It seems that Granger neglects her wards now she’s living in muggle London. You’d think one of the Golden Trio would value security above all else, but alas, no, she’s used wards that a first year could take down with ease.”

“I’m not asking again, Blaise, what are you doing here?” I’ve barely moved from my position, knowing I’m unarmed, and the wand Hermione promised to procure for me hasn’t yet materialised.

He wanders towards the windows and looks out at the view. “I’ve been house hunting. How do you suppose a muggle managed to purchase such expensive real estate? Oh, yes, I know the answer to that one, let me tell you, please!” He giggles in a most disconcerting way, then covers his mouth, his eyes filled with mirth. I have a feeling he’s unhinged and try to keep him on the level.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” I tut, sitting back on the sofa with both arms across its back, trying to retain a mask of indifference. I swing my foot onto my knee, awaiting his reply.

“You’ll never believe it, Malfoy, they took half the wealth from all the Death Eaters in Azkaban and redistributed it amongst the war heroes and the rest of the population, even your fathers. The Weasley’s new build is quite impressive, they were awarded millions of Galleons for the loss of their son.” He sits on the sofa opposite me, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers pressed together. “I can see why you’re here now, Granger is gold plated pussy.”

“Don’t you talk about her like that!” I want to kill him for speaking of her in that way.

“Ooh, hit a nerve, did I? I see you’re playing house with the mudblood while the rest of us are picking our reputations up from the gutter.” He investigates his perfectly manicured nails. “Shall I tell you what I think? I think you’re using her to rebuild yours without lifting a finger. Oh, I know society would hate it at first, they’d pick you both apart in the Prophet, trying to work out how the two of you ticked as a couple; does Hermione have Stockholm syndrome from being tortured in your home? Is she a bleeding heart who can’t bear to watch you suffer so she opened her legs to make Drakey feel all better? But once they realised you were together for good, they’d grow to love you, you’d become the power couple to rule them all.”

“Is that why you’re here? To tell me my future. Do you have a little glass orb in your pocket with my future swirling inside, or is this purely conjecture? You don’t know a thing about me, you haven’t since school.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong there, mate, so very wrong. You see, I make it my business to know everything that goes on in the Wizarding world. When I bed a new witch or two every night, they tell me anything I want, just to be the one who captured the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world.”

“I see, so that’s what this about. You’re worried that I’m the only one to best you in that if I were to return to the wizarding world, and you can’t stand it.” I’m beginning to feel a red veil of anger claw at my peripheral. Although nobody can accuse Draco Malfoy of not protecting himself at any cost, its exactly what got me in the dragon dung in the first place.

“Nah, not really, I’ve carefully cultivated my new reputation and all the old witches love me as much as the young ones. Your mother receives Witch Weekly as well as the Prophet, she’s probably just as enamoured with her sons’ good-looking friend and, if I found a way to see her for tea, I reckon she’d be easy pickings with Lucius in the slammer.”

“If you touch my mother it’ll be the last thing you ever do, although it’s unlikely a Malfoy would consider a Zabini a worthy partner, I know your father put in a dowry matching my fathers for my mother, but was offered Andromeda instead. Do remind me of what happened to my aunt, that’s it, I remember, she ran off with a muggle rather than marry your father.” I sneer, beginning to lose my calm visage. “How many step-fathers have you had now? Five, six? Questionable deaths all of them, I think. My mother isn’t allowed visitors and you would be the last on her list if she could.”

“Oh? I know your little mudblood girlfriend called at Malfoy Manor only a few days ago. Was it to tell her where her little Drakey-poo had been for the past year? In muggle London on Ministry decree? I see you’ve covered yourself with muggle designs to fit in, ever the coward. You can do everything you want to hide, Malfoy, but you’ll never be a muggle, and you’ll never be one of us again, so where does that leave you? Married to a muggle and ending generations of pureblood tradition with one shoot of your load into Granger’s gold-plated pussy.” He repeats his new name for Granger once more and it makes me want to vomit.

He stands and walks towards the floo and I remain seated as I want to wring his bloody neck, but I have to keep my cool as I’m still wandless and he could easily Avada me if he decided to. It seems he has little control of his mind and I don’t trust he wouldn’t use any form of magic on me.

“I’m actually here with a warning from an acquaintance, although I’m jealous they’ve found a way to harass the mighty lioness of Gryffindor in such a manner, I wish it were me instead. Call your girlfriend off, Malfoy, tell her to stop looking for a way to redeem you. Finish your muggle time in her bed or back in the hole you came from, I don’t care which, but if you set foot back in the Wizarding world before this time next year then you’ll both pay.”

I stand, I’m willing to plead with him for Hermione, I’d never lower myself to this if I didn’t worry for her. “Blaise, mate, we were friends once, you know I can’t just stand by while this happens. Tell me who it is, and I’ll make sure you’re given credit, made to look like the saviour of the Gryffindor Princess. Come on, if you say you have your fingers in many pies, then you can help, I know you can.”

“It’s nice to hear you call me your friend again, but unfortunately I have no say, the wheels are in motion and you and your little fuck toy will be ended if you do anything to jeopardise it. Ci vediamo dopo amico.” I blink as the green light of the floo flashes. I dont know what to do, there’s no way to contact Hermione at the Weasley’s, I can’t go there to tell Potter what happened. I walk unsteadily to the kitchen and take a carving knife out of the drawer before sitting down to continue the film, which I dont really pay attention to. I just hope I dont receive any other visitors in until Hermione returns home and I wish I could walk for miles, because I really need to stave off the adrenyline running through my veins. Those trips where I lost myself somehow kept me sane, and now I’m alone here I’m in danger of losing myself to the anxieties and bad dreams of my earlier days at the hostel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ci vediamo dopo amico – See you later friend.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some smut towards the end, yay! Thank you to everyone who's still reading and following this story, I've loved hearing from you. I think this is likely to end up being longer than 10 chapters, more like 15, as I've veered a little away from my story plan, but then all the more for you guys, eh? :D
> 
> This chapter was betaed by the amazing @badwolfjedi (@bwjdramione-blog on tumblr)

 

**Hermione**

I sit through lunch at the Burrow with Ginny on one side and Harry on the other and both are flirting. I wonder why they ever spilt after the war because they were always so good together. My minds on what happened between Draco and I this morning and I wish I was home with him right now. Not that I don’t enjoy my weekly meal at the Burrow, but it can be hard when both Fred and George’s seats are empty. George rarely comes home at all, he can’t face his mother knowing he looks exactly like his lost brother.

Ron is sitting opposite me with his new girlfriend, Tracey Davis. To say I’m shocked, hardly gives the situation credit but it also gives me hope that a Slytherin can be accepted by a family such as this. Ron has eaten a meal twice the size of anyone else’s and Tracey’s eaten hers demurely beside him, smiling occasionally as he whispers in her ear. I watch her giggle and almost drop her pumpkin juice when he does it for a third time.

“Ron, its rude to whisper at the dinner table and neglect your friends who’ve joined us for dinner.” Arthur berates, as Molly snivels into her napkin. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen the Weasley patriarch berate one of his children, and I can see he’s frazzled in his attempts to keep the family together at all costs. I rise to comfort Molly, taking my meal with me and dragging my chair along to sit beside her. She places her hand over mine.

"Sorry dad, sorry mum." Ron looks ashamed and Tracey look’s uncomfortable.

"You're such a good girl Hermione, thank you." Molly gives me a watery smile.

I place my hand over hers and she begins to cry again. It's been a year since we lost Fred and she cries some weeks when we visit, other times she puts on a brave face. I've learned she needs comfort from one of her brood, but they often don't know how to deal with her, so I just offer mine instead.

"They're just wrapped up in each other, much like you and Arthur must have been at first." I murmur to Molly, surprised as she throws her head back and laughs. 

"Oh, Hermione, I could tell you all such stories." She continues giggling. "Arthur, tell them how in love we were." She moves to touch his face tenderly and I watch how he looks at her, like she’s his sunshine.

"Molly, I'm not sure they'll need to know the finer details, since there are so many of them sitting around the table." He chuckles.

Oops. I think Arthur realises he's said the wrong thing as Molly’s tears begin again, plopping into her dinner as she remembers her lost son. Ron shrugs at me, and mouths “What are you doing?” I mouth back, "I don't know!" Tracey shakes her head with a supportive grimace and I'm glad there's no animosity from her as I'm sick of being ignored by Ron’s girlfriends. The few he’s had have mostly seen me as a threat and I totally blame Rita Skeeter and her stupid article for it.

The moment is broken as a man opens the back door and knocks his head on the pelmet. "I'm sure this door got smaller since the last time I was here!" He calls over cheerfully. 

It's Charlie Weasley, as large as life and twice as ugly, except he’s not, ugly I mean, and I remember immediately why I had a massive crush on him when we met properly at Fred's funeral a year ago. I know it was terrible timing, but his muscular thighs alone were reason to think he was the hottest guy I'd ever met, plus his gorgeous hair. On the night following the funeral we shared a lingering kiss over hot chocolate when the others had gone to bed, and his wink as he left to go to bed that night left me in no doubt there was an invitation to join him. My courage failed me, as I remember, and I also recall that I didn’t want my first time to be a rushed affair in secret after a terrible day. I wanted to relish it and take my time to enjoy the experience.

"Charlie!" Molly shrieks and there's not a dry eye at the table as she runs into the arms of her oldest son who's almost twice the size of her, sobbing her heart out.

"I've missed you mum." He doesn't look up and I notice a tear slide down his cheek. 

Arthur rises with damp eyes, "I think we're finished. Let’s go to the lounge for dessert."

I give him a supportive smile as he ushers us away and he pats my cheek as I’m closest.

"Let's let them have a moment, she's waited so long for him to come home, it’s been a good year for fledges, a record number were born so he wasn’t able to return to us until now, this is a surprise for Molly, she’s struggling every day." He murmurs sadly, and I nod in agreement. Ron looks reluctant to leave his plate, but I send him a stern look and see Tracey is doing the same. Our eyes meet, we smile and shake our heads at his behaviour.

As I slide into a seat in the lounge Ginny sidles up to me, "Anything you want to tell me?"

I shake my head, "Only that we can't do games night tonight." I say loudly and it seems to make her even more excited. 

"Is it because of the guy?" She hisses less than quietly.

I nod, because what else can I say? Harry catches my eye and raises a thumb when no one else us looking.

"Oh. I was looking forward to that, I wanted to ask if I could bring Tracey along." Ron interjected glumly.

"You're more than welcome anytime Tracey, believe me. Ron's never brought a girlfriend before, so I'd be honoured, it's just I have a date tonight."

Tracey smiles and leans down to kiss Ron’s head. I really hope he won't break her heart. I didn't know her at school, but she seems lovely, compared to the Slytherins I knew—know, bugger, I don’t know what to say about him, the one currently residing in my home who I would’ve let take me over my balcony furniture this very morning.

"A date? With who?" Ron looks put out and, as usual, doesn’t conform to the social niceties, like not demanding to know who someone is going on a date with.

"Never you mind, Ronald, I'll tell you when I'm good and ready. I’ll introduce you when I know it’s something more than a first date, just like you did when you decided to bring Tracey home for dinner for the first time, you met someone you care about and you're introducing her to us.” His soft look at Tracey warms my heart.

"Alright, alright, but you be careful, there are men out there who'd shag anything that moves." His sage look makes me want to burst out laughing and I see everyone else pursing their lips, including Percy, as they try to keep composure. 

"I'll be careful, you know me Ron." I press my fingers to my mouth to supress a secret smile as he leans up to kiss his girlfriend. That could be me, I could have sweet kisses from someone I love, in fact he’s within my grasp and it’s a wonderful feeling whatever the circumstances.

Molly rushes into the room, holding a tray filled with bowls of trifle and Charlie follows her with two more dishes held in his large hands, his eyes red rimmed. 

"Here's dessert my dears. Arthur, could you bring everyone a drink, we’re celebrating our Charlie coming home." 

Tracey jumps up, "Mr Weasley, I'll help." 

"Well, I'd be honoured, Miss Davis." He grins, holding his arm out for her to take and I know she'll fit into this family like a glove.

Charlie moves around the room shaking his brother’s hands, and hugging them warmly, he kisses and lifts Ginny into a hug, she hangs from his neck, her legs swaying as she laughs and yells out how she’s missed him, hooting for him to put her down.

"Hermione." He passes a bowl to me and leans in to kiss me on the lips. I turn my face at the last minute, and his lips land on my cheek. He smells good, but it wouldn't do to give him the wrong idea, especially as I've been entangled with Draco this morning, someone who makes me weaken at the knees in a way Charlie never did. I look up to see everyone staring and I dig into my trifle and ignore their knowing glances.

Tracey's in the doorway with another tray filled with what looks like shots of Fire Whiskey. The others begin chatting loudly as she passes me a drink. "He's mega hot and you two look so great together. If I didn't care so much about Ron, I'd definitely try for him." She gave me a true Slytherin smirk.

"He lives in Romania and comes home rarely. I have a date with someone I've decided I want more with." She perches beside me on the sofa, handing the tray to Arthur who continues to distribute the drinks. 

"I always thought you'd end up with Ron." She admitted, looking shiftily at her boyfriend like she was conspiring with me. "He always looked at you like you were perfect at school."

"Godrick, if there were two people who were less suited, then it was us.” I laugh.” I love Ron like a brother, we shared a rather hot kiss once in the heat of battle, and I suppose we had a crush on each other as kids because we spent so much time together, but I knew he was never going to be my happily ever after, that, well, it lays elsewhere." Maybe with Draco? The one I’m going home to. I nudge her with my shoulder. "I think he could be yours though. Ron looks so happy and he's never brought a girl home to meet his parents before, so I can tell he really likes you.” She blushes and I feel happy for her, it must be a nice feeling to know others can see how much you care for each other.

"I hope so,” she says quietly, biting her lip as she stared at him, “he told me he loved me last night and I never believed we'd be such a perfect match, all the time we’ve been dating he’s been saying he couldn't believe I was in Slytherin." Tracey watches him as he interacts with Charlie, both chatting boisterously, picking up where they left off, like Charlie hadn't been away for a year. 

"I know he misses Fred,” I murmur, “and it's taken some time for any of them to adjust to his loss, but I truly believe my best friend could be on the up with you supporting him. It's been so great to meet you properly; I saw you around school—"

"But there was House rivalry, I know.” She interjects, “I just want you to know I'm no Draco Malfoy, I just wanted to get through school, pass my NEWTs and leave with no trouble, and I eventually managed it this year."

"As I did, via correspondence." My stomach is churning at her insinuation about Draco and I stand, shakily patting her shoulder. "Tracey it's been lovely to talk to you, I'll have you both over for dinner soon, or to perhaps a girl’s night with Ginny and I, but I need to go, or I won't make my date on time."

“I’d like that very much.” She smiles genuinely, standing to hug me.

Harry watches me as I cross the room as I kiss and hug the others, saying goodnight. He palms his head as Charlie lifts me up to his face like I weigh nothing at all, almost snogging me as I scramble to avoid it. I rush away as fast as I can, and  find my best friend behind me as I reach the floo.

"Everything alright? Um, I mean apart from giant red-heads trying to snog your face off?" His hands are in his pockets and he looks more relaxed than I’ve seen in a while. Harry always felt like that with the Weasleys, I always felt accepted but a little on the outside.

"Yeah, I just had to make that excuse about games night tonight and I think Charlie expected more, I don’t know what—God, we only snogged once." I tell him.

"Too much information, Hermione. So, you have a date with lover boy? I mean the blonde and not the massive red head." He shakes his head, trying to supress a laugh.

"Something like that." My cheeks feel hot as he ribs me. Charlie could be my white knight, a hero on a white horse, or maybe a white dragon? But I know neither of us wanted anything long term and he couldn’t commit to such anyway with the nature of his job, even if I had wanted it.

"You know, it seems you've become hot stuff, two blokes want you now.” Harry’s voice is low, “I must say, I never understood why my gorgeous best friend never dated before, but now men seem to be everywhere you turn." He snickers, "The one at home, strangely, is not as bad as I thought. I never thought I'd see the day when he looked at you that way, or the day I'd mention it."

"What way?"

"Like you were everything he ever wanted, wrapped up in a Hermione shaped package." He chuckles. 

"Things have been—i-it's happening quicker than I thought, and I'm a bit scared about how I feel."

"Hermione, you're the most sensible and caring person I know, but it doesn't mean you have to stay with him if you don't think it's right. I've offered him the option of staying elsewhere if it doesn't work, you know, staying with you. It doesn't mean we won't help him, but the option was there, which he turned down, by the way."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "It'll be fine." I kiss Harry's cheek and lift the powder for the floo. As the lick of green fire envelopes me, I see someone lurking around the corner, I could swear it was Percy, but my view was gone in a flash of green smoke before I had a chance to see properly.

.......

**Draco**

I've been pacing the length of the flat for hours now. It's only five, but I'm worried she's left Harry's sight and decided to stop in at the Ministry or head out for drinks with the Weasley girl, unaware of the danger she’s in. When the floo finally fires up, I rush to her, taking her upper arms and looking her over.

"Draco, you're hurting me." She yelps and I release my grip.

I release her, rubbing her arms, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't mean to be so rough, but Zabini was here! He came through the floo to your flat and he threatened us, told me your wards were infantile. I was worried about you." I'm rubbing both hands through my hair as she steps back towards me and places a hand on my cheek. 

“You’re okay, though? He didn’t hurt you?” Her eyes are filled with such concern, it’s another moment I feel I don’t deserve, but I accept it greedily, like there’s a hunger inside me only she can saite.

“No,” I let out a caustic chuckle, “only my pride, and everyone knows I could do with less of that.” I try to joke.

Her eyes flash with irritation. “My wards are perfectly adequate; I’ll have you know!”

I hold my hands up, “Wasn’t me who said that, love.”

The mechanics of her brain are working behind her eyes as she thinks, that much is clear.

"I need to go back for Harry. I’ll be back in five.” She turns to leave.

She cannot leave, anyone could be waiting to capture her! To do god knows what with her.  "What you need to do is strengthen the bloody wards, immediately!" I shout, instantly regretting it as she flinches. "I'm sorry, I've been frantic with worry, with no way to contact you, but you must protect yourself, he knows your every move!"

"I knew he was up to something yesterday! He stopped me in Madame Malkins, being his usual arrogant and distasteful self." She bites her lip.

"When were you going to tell me?" I glower, because I’d really like to be in this loop which involves the both of us, not kept in the dark like some Venomous Tentacula!

"I didn't think, I just thought he was being a tosser!" She throws her arms above her head and stalks towards the cupboard containing the alcohol, pouring a large glass of vodka and drinking it in record time. 

"And drinking yourself stupid will help us how, Hermione? Especially when he walks back through the floo and only one of us has a wand, the pissed one." I regret it even as it leaves my mouth, but I'll be damned if I watch her fall into the bad habits I did and lose herself to it.

"You’re a prick!” She yells, “And me steadying my nerves has nothing to do with any of it!" She slams the glass into the counter, and it shatters, the shards piercing her skin. She winces and peers at her shaking hand.

"Clearly." I raise an eyebrow striding to her side, wrapping her hand in a towel and holding her hand high to stop the bleeding from a gash on her palm. What? You think a wizard doesn't know what to do if they don't have a wand and are bleeding? I'm a Malfoy for fucks sake, bloodshed is my forte. If she can't take my brutal honesty, then what hope us there for us? "Tell me what he said to you." I demand.

"I have to get Harry." She pulls her hand away and looks up with tear filled eyes, taking out her wand to heal the tiny cuts.

I lower my voice. "No, it's better if you don't make it obvious. Zabini doesn't seem to know he's involved yet, or if he does, he didn't mention him. You’ll have to wait until work in the morning to make it less suspicious." I run my fingertips over her face, wiping away her tears with the pad of my thumb. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I was just terrified something had happened to you."

"Is that why there's a kitchen knife on my couch?" She cocks her head in that general direction.

"Err,” I glance at it, “I needed to protect myself, in case you've forgotten, I don't have a wand."

"I'll start on the wards right away, at least then we’ll get a decent night sleep. I’ll get you a wand tomorrow.”

“Yeah, also a bad idea. If the Ministry get wind I’ve used magic, they’ll follow my signature. I’m better off without one. Anyway, after what he said, I would have killed the bastard earlier if I had one.”

“What did he say?” She asks, her back to me and she begins casting new wards.

I would suggest she uses Malfoy wards as they’re famed for being the strongest in the wizarding world, but it would make it obvious to any wizard or Auror trying to come through that I was here, since a Malfoy must reside in a warded property. “I think its best you don’t know the full details, princess. Suffice to say, it was derogatory in your case and, other than that he told me he was working for someone else, someone who has a vested interest in keeping me where I am for the next year. Much as I hate to admit it, it seems Potter was right, they need to keep me away to ensure the Death Eaters can’t protest innocence and get a retrial.”

“I can’t believe this is Kingsley! What do you remember about being sent away? Who took you, who told you?”

“Nobody I recognised, and now I think about it, the more I feel I may have been under the influence of the Imperius or a similar spell or curse, because I don’t really remember questioning anything they said. I didn’t fight them, I just felt so lost I accepted it.  All I felt was deserving of the punishment, I still do, to a degree. I remember them telling me that I’d be accepted back into the wizarding world more easily if I showed I’d done this without any complaint. They told me someone must pay in the eyes of the muggles and it must be me. I’m sorry, it all just sounds so fucking pathetic now.”

“So, perhaps Kingsley wasn’t aware? Perhaps it’s a group who feel every Death Eater deserves to pay? You don’t remember anyone? If I was to bring photographs of all members of Ministry staff, do you think you could pick them out?”

“I’d certainly try, it’s all foggy in my mind, but if I saw them, well, yeah, I might recognise them.” I lower my eyes, watching her hands.

“It’s late and I have work tomorrow.” She takes the bloodied towel and throws it in the bin. “I-I’ll say goodnight then.” She looks like she’s forced a smile and she heads off to her room.

“Goodnight Hermione.” I say gently, feeling a sense of anxiety punch me in the gut. There’s more than usual rushing through my brain and the events of the past few days would usually have me walking for miles until my brain switches off. I walk out onto the balcony, knowing sleep will probably elude me until the wee small hours, and I grip the brick edge, staring over the city, watching as lights go out in the residential area on the other side of the river while people unlike me, try to sleep, ready for their busy Monday mornings. I only have a few cigarettes left and decide this is the best time to quit. Its unlikely Hermione will be obtaining any for me, even if I beg, since she believes they’ll kill me. Rather than smoke the last one and make the cravings worse, I throw the packet over the side and head back into the lounge again.

I see a muggle music player and press play, it comes on with a woman singing, she has a very pleasant voice and I feel it steady my nerves. I look at the CD case, left on top of the player and see it’s an album by someone called Stevie Nicks.

 

 _“_ _Well maybe I'm just thinking that the rooms are all on fire, every time that you walk in the room. Well there is magic all around you, if I do say so myself, I have known this much longer than I've known you.”_

 

I close my eyes and let the music wash over me.

“I play that song when I can’t sleep.” I jump as I feel Crookshank’s tail brush against my leg and hear Hermione’s voice from the doorway.

“It’s nice, kind of soothing.” I reply, when I open my eyes, she’s beside me, wearing pink sleep shorts and a white vest top with two bunnies adorning the places over her breasts. Fuck. I can’t help but let my eyes rove over her, as she looks like a serving of Honeydukes pink coconut ice, sweet, lush and so very Moorish.

“I used to wonder if I would ever be lucky enough to dance with someone to that song.” Her voice is easy and hopeful, like the squabbles of earlier have been forgotten. I guess this is what it might be like to be with Hermione. Bickering and making up without hardly the need for an apology. I wonder if she’s the type to let things go, unless they’re serious arguments and I guess this might be because she’d always had that simple relationship between her and her friends. It always seemed they just got over their spats, something I always envied. Then of course, there’s always make up sex in a longer-term relationship I’ve heard of, and that thought makes my head spin.

“You looked beautiful at the yule ball and I wished I could’ve danced with you then.” I begin, feeling foolish for even telling her, “I was jealous when that great lumbering Bulgarian put his hands on you.” I admit. I hold my hand out to her and she takes it without hesitation. “Would you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Granger?”

“I told you, don’t call me Miss Granger, it—”

“Reminds you of my father.” I snort, twirling her around before she can answer, and pulling her into my arms. “I’m beginning to feel slight concern at your infatuation with my father.” I grin, keeping my hands on her waist, even thought I’d like to take two handfuls of her gorgeous buttocks and grind her against my burgeoning erection. I’m ever the gentleman and would always seek her permission before engaging in such an act, especially since we can’t really be said to be on good terms as yet.

“He, um, well, the girls at school, they used to get quite excited when Lucius visited. They liked his hair. Not me though, I detested him ever since I first met him. H-his hair was rather alluring though, and that’s all I have to say on the matter.” She’s blushing and I feel mirth rumble through my chest.

“Well, well, Granger, so you’re actually telling me you had a crush on my father’s hair?” I tease, I can’t help it, she’s so easy to wind up. I know she hates the very ground he walks on now, but it’s interesting to find out she liked his hair, especially as its one of the better qualities he bestowed on me.

“No, I am saying that at all!” She slaps my chest with a crooked smile.

I move to whisper in her ear, “But, you had a crush on me.” I place both hands on her shoulders, massaging them delicately.

Her eyes dart up and then lower swiftly. “Maybe.” She murmurs and I feel her straighten her posture like she’s readying herself for a fight. “Alright, yes, I did. I thought you were the most handsome man at the yule ball. I watched you with Pansy and, although I had a great time with Viktor, I wished I’d been able to attend with you. In fact, I wished it was me every time I saw you canoodling in a nook with some poor witch, but I knew I would end up heartbroken if I dared approach you, just like they undoubtedly did. You were vile then and I was an idiot for even entertaining the idea.”

She won’t look at me and I place the palm of my hand on my forehead, grinding it against the skin over my eyes. It seems our slow dance and truce has ended with the song, and I’ve said the wrong thing yet again, brought up the wrong subject, but if we’re to stand any chance of anything developing between us, we must air out every nasty grievance that has ever happened between us. “Alright. You know this of me, you saw every atrocious act, every hateful and low thing I ever did to those girls, every other wretched thing, and I can’t help but wonder why you even allowed me into your home, or even gave me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’ve done it because you’re not that person anymore, I can see it! Shit! Can you honestly tell me you’d do the same again? I don’t think you would, Draco. Given the opportunity to reset your life and begin again, I think you’d chose a different path.” She’s clasping a lump of hair at the nape of her neck in indignation.

It’s like she’s somehow taken residence in my head and is relaying my thoughts back to me. “No, I wouldn’t, you know that, but I have to say, when you have witches throwing themselves at you from all angles and you’re a teenaged boy, you make bad choices. They all wanted the archetypal bad boy, Hermione, they wanted to say they’d been with me and it was hard to deal with so many feelings when I knew I didn’t care about them, when I knew I only wanted one person in the whole world I couldn’t have!” And there, it’s out there in the ether between us, like a spirit she has the choice to capture in both hands or discard and break me.

“It can’t—You can’t have—it’s insane to even say you’ve wanted me that long.”

Yep, insane and sado-masochistic. “Regardless, it’s the truth.” I divulge.

“Didn’t you ever think? No—no, that would be utterly ridiculous, of course you wouldn’t—”

“You mean to ask me whether I would have tried to catch you alone and ask you to be with me?” I know that’s what she’s thinking, she’s nothing if not an open book, I’ve always adored that about her.

She nods and seems to find the wooden flooring of her lounge quite interesting as she awaits my reply.

“I spent every waking hour trying to get your attention, evil wrongdoings and all. In 5th year, I hid around corners when I knew you’d be there, watching you, craving you when I could escape my friends. There were so many times I stood behind the stacks in the library, just watching you study. It’s bloody creepy now I think about it, but then lots of things I did crossed the line as a kid, I’ve only learned how wrong they were as I’ve got older. After that, well, you know what my 6th year consisted of, you and Potter watched me for a change.”

“I can’t say that was all that bad, being allowed to stare at the Slytherin table. Godrick, you saying you almost stalked me and me saying I liked doing it for the same reason, leaves us at somewhat of an impasse, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll take that, Granger,” I say playfully, “but I think my following you was ominous if not sinister and I apologise for it all.”

She walked over and put the music on again.

“I’d be less sick of your apologies if you kissed me again.” She said, her back to me as she fiddled with the player.

…

**Hermione**

I feel him moving closer after I’ve asked for a kiss and his hand drops to my shoulder, its warmth radiating into my skin as the large span of his hand gives him leave to brush the top of my arm with his thumb. He moves my hair aside and drops a simple kiss on the nape of my neck. I feel his hot breath as he murmurs.

“Is that what you want? It’s a kiss.”

“I want more, always more from you.” My lashes flutter as I say it. I want everything that’s Draco Malfoy, Merlin, everything he can give me.

"More? If you told me exactly what you want, I'd give you anything." He nips at my shoulder.

"So, it’s like that is it?" I turn in his arms, leaning back against the sideboard, lifting my thigh in between his legs, meeting his crotch with my knee, before sliding my toes over his calf. "You seem awfully sure you're the one in charge here." I know he'd only have to touch me and I'd be like putty in his hands, but he doesn't have to know that, does he?

He smirks and my legs tremble. He drops his head so his lips are within inches of mine, I can see his raised eyebrow as he questions what I said. 

"Oh, I've never doubted who’s in charge Hermione. You see," he breathes over the shell of my ear, "I think your fantasy is to make the bad boy yours, to make him tremble and drop to his knees before you." And fuck! He does exactly that. His hands run the length of my thighs and inch closer to the edge of my shorts. He looks up, "It seems I'm waiting for the one in charge to give me permission, Princess, do I have it?"

Yes, a million times over. I nod, because I'm not quite sure I'm capable of speech or any other form of communication. He pulls down my shorts and finds me naked underneath, they are my bed shorts after all, and I hadn't intended anything like this to occur between us or I might've worn something sexier. 

"Fuck." He whispers against my mons, and I move my hand to my mouth, biting the knuckle on my forefinger at the feeling. I've never experienced anyone so close to me before and his breath alone sends shivers down my spine into rolling coils throughout my lower belly.

He runs a splayed hand under my top, from my lower belly to my sternum, lightly scraping the flesh under my breasts with his nails.

"You're delectable." He tells me, his voice revering as he pushes up further and clasps my left breast and uses his thumb to flick over its hardened peak. I moan and drop my head back. I bite my lip as he uses his free hand to spread my labia to the cool air.

"Mmm." I feel him growl against me and the vibrations make me feel like I might shoot into orbit as his tongue dips to my clit, circling once, twice, oh, oh, and a third time.

"Oh, s-shit, that, oh." I can't help myself; I want to be embarrassed as he's the first to ever touch me this way, but I can't help but drift away on a platitude of intense feeling. His fingers caress my opening and I buck against his face. "Draco!" I call out. I know it's me, but I feel like I'm lost in a dream filled with pleasure, a fantasy better than I ever imagined. He pushes a finger inside as he laps at me, the friction inside me causes me to reach forward and grasp a handful of his hair. "Don't stop, please don't stop!" I demand. Every part of me is on fire, every synapse firing in my brain and if he just carries on for second’s I know I'll be leaping from the precipice. 

"Cum for me, princess," he lifts his head and moves his thumb to circle my clit, "you're so beautiful like this, so much like I imagined, I want you so badly, cum for me, Hermione."

His voice does this to me, it always has. He sends me into a frenzy and arch my back further wailing his name as sparks shoot through my body, culminating in a spasm so intense I think I might shoot off into the stars.

He's on his feet and I'm in his arms, my chest heaving to the point I might hyperventilate. 

"Sweet Salazar, you're amazing!" His face is muffled in my neck as he lifts my bum and pulls my legs around his waist, dipping his hips and causing me to whimper at the sensation of his trouser clad cock brushing my sensitive clit.

"More, I want more, Draco, please." I move my arm to pull him closer, and his lips descend on mine, I can taste myself, but I can taste him too, I can smell the testosterone leaking from his pores, feel his desperation as he pulls of my top, lifts me and carries me to the couch, throwing me down. I bounce lightly.

"Please, I've waited so long to make love to you, please don't make me wait any longer, I need you, Hermione."

I move myself back against the sofa to give him room to lower himself over me and beckon him with open arms, allowing my legs to spread, and dropping a hand to caress my nipples and then move to spread myself wide open for him. My teeth nibble my lower lip and I remember then I've never done this before. Is it too late to say? Should I stop it and make him understand? But then he'll probably stop, and it'll ruin the mood. No! We're doing this, if I wait then I'll worry about the pain I'm told is involved when a man is inside a woman for the first time. No, I'll be sensible and lance the boil, feel the sensation, do what I want. I move to undo his zip and release, oh, Merlin, what is something that feels like it's very unlikely to fit inside me. I feel my body spring to life as I touch him, it’s so hot. It must fit, it will, otherwise humankind wouldn't exist! I'm sensible enough to know this. I can feel heat, along with silky skin and hardness, oh, my, there's also a little drool at the tip. I know this to be precum from the muggle anatomy books I've read, and it feels similar to what I have inside me, maybe just a little more, um, vitreous. His hardness sends all sorts of reminders of my past orgasm, it tells a story to my body by existing at all and I try not to investigate too closely, now I've experienced my first very loud zenith at the hands of another. I hope his length will shoot me into the stratosphere just like his tongue and fingers did.

I guide him to my opening, and he groans as I pump his length, attempting to learn him with fingers and body.

"Gods, the feel of you," he shudders and moves to pull his shirt over his head, lowering his chest to meet mine. 

Once I feel his skin against me, I'm lost once more, desperate for him and I dig my nails into his shoulders, lifting my legs around his hips. "Draco, do it, take me now." I hope I'm not sounding inexperienced.

"Oh, fuck, you feel so, fuck, so good!" His hands rove over my breasts and body as his cock hovers at my opening.

“Draco, now.” I demand, feeling him rut against me. Then he slides right inside me with one stroke and I fight the pain, it feels like an invasion but also like it should be there, regardless I can't help but hiss. 

He leans up on his arms, his eyes as black as tar. He knows, I know he knows. He must've felt my hymen break, just as I did. 

"Hermione, please tell me that wasn't what I thought it was?" He's pursing his lips and his eyes are squeezed shut.

"It was," I rasp, "but please don't stop, let me have this experience with you, I want you so much and I know you'll make it good for me."

"Some warning might've been good, love." He kisses my forehead and I feel him shiver bodily. "Tell me when to move, tell me when it feels good again." He lowers his hand to my clit and circles with his thumb carefully, while dropping his lips to caress every part of me he can reach. 

Heat builds like a coil in my lower belly as he slowly gyrates his hips, and I reach to where we're joined. It feels so strange to have him inside me like this, and I run my fingers through his soft pubic hair. I haven't been close enough to know whether it's as blonde as his head. I clasp the only part of his penis I can reach. "You feel so silky and it feels so alien, but you feel perfect." His thumb continues its slow circular motions over my clit, and I arch my back again, moving into a position that feels, bloody hell, it feels fucking amazing. "Just there, keep doing that and I'm going to fall off the precipice again…oh, s-shit, oh, Godrick."

His jaw is set so hard I worry he might break his teeth. "I'm going to begin moving, but I'll stop if you're in pain." He growls.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that—oh—holy shit, oh, don't stop doing that!" I yell, feeling him begin to work his hips against mine in the most delectable way. Every part of me is on fire as I feel every inch of his body against mine. It's like I'm experiencing sensory overload and that coil in my lower belly becomes so near I lift my hips to meet his on the downstroke. "Draco, don't stop, don't you ever stop!" I scream as my body convulses and I lose any sense of who I am, where I am, only barely registering his body as it tenses above me, his cock throbbing inside me as his sweaty forehead presses on mine. I hear our hurried breath filling the silence in the room as I quake with aftershocks. Is this how amazing it is? Merlin, he’s made me feel a climax I could never imagine, and I want to blurt out how phenomenal it was.

"Fuck, you are the most perfect witch," he pants eventually, "don't ever leave me, p-please don't ever— I love you so much."

He almost falls off the sofa as he collapses beside me. His nose swathed in my neck, breathing like he's just run a marathon. We're both steeped with sweat, and I can’t say I care.

"That was," I struggle to catch my breath. "that was amazing."

"It was singularly the best thing that ever happened to me Hermione." He kisses me, his tongue instantly deepening the kiss, making me shudder with lust and longing, while wondering how soon we can do it again.

Wait. What did he say?

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay this week, I moved home and my WiFi was turned off unexpectedly, I'll be back to regular posting next Thursday.
> 
> This chapter has a delicious continuation from the last, smutty at the beginning and with a cliffy at the end. I really hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thanks as always to my lovely beta @badwolfjedi (@bwjdramione-blog on tumblr)
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

** Draco **

I lift her and carry her to the en-suite in her room, ignoring her protests, which consist of: ‘Draco put me down’, ‘Draco, I can walk myself’, ‘Draco, I'll hex you if you don't come back and do that again, right now’.

I'm livid that she didn't tell me she was a virgin. I'm angry that I told her I love her because I never expected to say it like this, but I don't think she noticed what I said. Strangely, the Slytherin god i.e. me, or the person I used to be, didn't take anyone inexperienced in all the years at school. My virginity was taken in fifth year by a rather amorous Veela from Beauxbatons. I wasn't really taken with her, nor her with me, as she realised afterwards to her detriment, as her eventual mate wouldn't have been greatly happy that she wasn't pure, and I definitely wasn’t her first. Still, that was the kind of wanker I was, I didn't care back then. But Hermione giving herself to me like this was like the biggest gift I'd ever been given. I think Miss Practical just thought I wouldn't notice, that we'd go through the motions and I wouldn't realise I'd broken through her hymen. Well, she was wrong, so very wrong, as it was obvious, the feeling was slightly like the snapping of a rubber band, a feeling like you've broken through a barrier, just like I’ve heard others say. I'll be having some gentle words with her in the morning as I would’ve taken more care with her, had I known. Anyway, right now I'm running a bath, because if this minx thinks she's having me again, she has another thing coming, all I want is to stave off any further pain for her.

Her bath resembles a smaller version of the prefect’s bathroom at Hogwarts, it fills quickly and for someone who is almost a muggle right now, it’s the easiest way to create bubbles with strawberry scented oils. I'm standing with my arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her neck to keep her calm.

"Tell me again why I need a bath?" I watch her brow furrow and she pouts petulantly because she isn't getting her own way.

"Because, you neglected to tell me that I've just taken your maidenhood and you're likely to be sore. Plus, I want to see every inch of you covered in bath oils and bubbles, it's something I've fantasised about on many an occasion while I wanked off. Need you know more?" I can't believe she blushes again after what we've just done. "So, I’m intrigued now, are you embarrassed about me wanting to see you like that, or the knowledge I wanked over you?" I turn off the taps and test the water. Finding it suitable, I hold my hand out to assist her in stepping in.

She takes my hand as she lowers herself into the water, moving it to my cock. "I want to watch you touch yourself. I thought about you in the shower the first night you stayed and that's what I imagined you might be doing."

Fuck, she's biting that lip of hers again. "That's what I hoped you were doing in your bed in the next room." 

Fuck, I'm so hard again. "That robe you wore the next morning made me want to rip it off you and have my way with you on the balcony, and your tits, fuck—" I'm pumping my length so fast I will soon be a goner, "I wanted to rip it right off you and come all over your tits." I groan.

She sinks into the water, her breasts higher above the water than the rest of her exquisite body, the bath oils give her a sheen that would be every man’s wet dream, it's certainly mine. "I want you to touch yourself too, it's just not fair otherwise."

I'm so turned on I run my free hand over my brow, it's so heated my wrist is dripping with sweat when I remove it.

She lifts a hand and sweeps it down between her breasts, nibbling on the little finger of her other hand as she reaches her mound, little minx. "Should I go further?" She asks, a look of delight in her eyes as she watches me pump my cock harder. "Maybe, to here?" She lifts her lower half out of the water, separates her labia and places her middle finger on her clit, circling it and letting out a sensual moan.

"Yes, fuck, tell me what you’re thinking about when you touch yourself." I step to sink into the water before her, my legs between hers as she places hers on the sides of the bath beside m y hips.

She arches her back, "The first time I ever touched myself was when I saw you in your Quidditch gear in fifth year. Oh, god you were so hot, you'd lost to Gryffindor and you were so angry you threw your broom down, pulled your robes off above your head, dumping them and your broom on the ground. Then you stalked off the pitch in just your boots and trousers. You'd begun to get more muscular that year and my stomach was filled with butterflies as I watched you stride away. Your arse, Godrick, it was positively sinful, you were every daydream I ever had in one person, one boy, you."

Holy fuck, I feel like I'm going to shoot my load, but I hold myself back with great difficulty. There's too much stimulation, my hand on my cock, her touching herself and telling me her deepest darkest thoughts about me. I thought I was the only one to think of her when I wanked off, but it seems she did it too, the thought is divine.

"In sixth year you were so much taller, I had to watch you because—you know—and I noticed how your shoulders were broader, and you looked so broody—Oh, I'm close, I want you to cum on me." Her spare hand is tugging on her nipple as she frantically rubs herself, occasionally dipping her fingers inside herself. "When y-you, pinned me against the counter here in the kitchen, I wanted you to touch me so much I thought I might d-die. Your lips on my neck, oh, gods, I want to feel you cum on me when I cum, please, Draco!"

How could I not oblige this perfect witch? I watch as she splays herself open for me, writhing in ecstasy and I ejaculate over her belly. Fuck, who'd even know that the two of us were so compatible we could drive each other crazy like this?

"Mmm." She moans at my kiss as I capture her mouth, "I think you might've mentioned something about taking me to bed and never letting me leave this morning?"

"I need to reassess that, because I'll now be taking you to bed, never letting you leave and making you scream my name until your throat is sore."

"Will you be telling me you love me again? Because I quite liked that."

Oh fuck.

..........

** Hermione **

I'm living a dream and although I pride myself in knowing many things, this wasn't one of them. It was something so amazing I now realise what everyone was harping on about. Ginny once told me it was quite usual for a man to tell you they loved you when they orgasm and not to believe it as it was rarely meant. The two of us used to hole up in her room and talk about sex when we were younger, when I stayed at the Burrow. To be honest, I don't think I'd know much about it at all without her input. Molly was quite open with her, but my parents got out a medical book for me, I remember it being excruciatingly embarrassing.

Now Draco’s said those three words I'm not sure what to believe, and he's withdrawn as he stands and leaves the bath. He turns and faces the mirror, watching me in the reflection. My eyes drift up his arms, noticing how his arms are covered in tattoos from his shoulders but I glance at the tattoo on his back and I see myself staring back. "What the hell is that?" I sit up suddenly and the water floods over the side of the bath.

"Oh, yeah, um, I forgot about that. It's not quite finished." He says, picking up a towel, drying himself off and turning to me. "I know you probably think it’s creepy, but I never thought I'd be with you, my tattooist warned me about having a piece done like this when he did it."

I grab a towel and wrap it around me, then I cover my mouth with my hand. "You chose to have the face of a woman you might never have tattooed on your back. Draco, what made you do that? It reeks of obsession! What if we'd never got together, what if you’d had to marry another witch? What would she make of it?"

"Hermione, it wasn't like that, my tattooist asked me what I cared most about when I joined the muggle world and I told him, I showed him pictures of the only girl I ever loved. Fuck, princess, what do you want me to say? Does it look worse than my dark mark? Worse than any of my other tattoos? I'm sick of not knowing with you. I love you; I've always loved you, but if you can't deal with everything that is me, then perhaps Potter’s suggestion of a safe house might be for the best. I can go, so you don't have to deal with me if you don't want to!"  He’s angry and so I am, so bloody angry at this irresponsible and permanent thing he’s done to himself.

"Do you want to go?" God, this is like a punch to the gut, the weird tattoo and the fact he wants to leave out of the blue. It’s like he's a stalker but he hasn't been stalking me, not in the traditional sense. Now he's had me and he’s leaving me, I'm so confused by it all. Should we have waited?

"No, of course I want to be here with you, we're perfect together, I've always wanted you, I can't be without you. If the tattoo bothers you, I'll have it covered over."

He drops to his knees, which seems to be a regular occurrence, like I'm some damn Virgin Mary he's confessing his sins to , perhaps Harry was right? Perhaps he wants me to absolve him of his sins?

"Hermione, I have so much to be sorry for already, I won't apologise for loving you. I can't. But if I must go then I will, it won't change my feelings, but I'll leave you in peace."

I know the moment he left would leave me in agony, not peace, I'd feel like I'd failed him, and I don’t really know what I feel right now. "There's no need to leave, let's talk tomorrow evening when I come home from work." I give him a tight smile as I grab a terry robe from the back of the door, leaving him and heading to my room in turmoil. I doubt I'll sleep again, but then the reason I'd originally left my room earlier was because I couldn't sleep, so I resign myself to it now.

........

** Draco **

I let myself out of the flat. I couldn't give a flying fuck that Potter told me not to. I need to buy cigarettes; I need to walk, and I need to work out how my own stupidity buggered everything up after such an amazing night with Hermione.

I buy some cigarettes in the late-night local shop and start walking to the pub Chris goes to, the Nags Head, I need some of his wisdom, but doubt he'll be sensible enough to give it at this time of night , the bloke was never known to be sober after nine.

As soon as I enter the door, I see him sitting alone, nursing a drink in the corner.

"My Lord!" His face lights up when I walk to the table in the alcove at the back of the pub. The pub is quaint and reminds me a bit of the Three Broomsticks, not that I frequented it much, since the dregs of wizarding society were often found there, and I only accompanied father when he went there on business. It's dark, with an open fire and it seems people mind their own business, mainly as its only frequented by old men. It seems a bit out of character for Chris who's not the type to sit in dark corners with his huge personality, nor frequent a pub where the most excitement seems to be the two old blokes in the corner playing some muggle game with small black rectangles.

"I look at the table and see several discarded shot glasses. "I suppose you're out of cash since I've been away?" I sit opposite him and place twenty pounds on the table. His eyes are trained on it and he has the grace to look embarrassed when he moves a shaking hand to take it. 

"Somethin' like that, Drax. Where've you bin? The coppers were askin' round after you, an' some other dodgy geezers, they looked like those old timey CIA blokes from the thirties, wouldn't say who they were. Some old geezers moved into your room; he doesn't want any tats and he smells of piss." He says gloomily.

He rises and moves to the bar, buying us each a pint of lager with a whiskey chaser, plonking them down before me. He drinks the pint down in record time and eyes mine. "Here mate, I was never one for beer." I sip my whiskey and eye him thoughtfully. I think I can trust him; he’s never given me a reason not to. "I found Hermione and I've been staying at her flat, but I fucked things up with her, like the blithering idiot I am, I don't know if she'll forgive me. I had nowhere to go, so I came looking for you."

"Hermione? You mean Hermione Granger." His eyes light up and I blink, I don't remember telling him her last name. "Her name was below the moving picture." He addresses my internal question without me having to ask. "One of the Golden Trio it said, one who rid the wizarding world of tyranny." He throws back his shot of whiskey.

"Huh, it seems you aren't as unobservant as I thought." I smirk.

He gives me a toothless grin in return. "Didn't you ever question why I called you my Lord? I know who the Malfoy's are, I know who Hermione is, I even know about Harry Potter."

"Fucking Potter, the bane of my bloody life. Why is his name involved in every conversation I have at the moment?" I know I haven’t mentioned Potter to Chris before and I'm sure it was only Hermione’s name on the picture he used for the tattoo. A coil of anger weaves its way through my stomach, I trust him, but I smell the scent of betrayal in the air. He's huge in stature compared to me, so my old staple, intimidation, isn't going to work here. I decide just to be forthright. "If you know who I am then you've lied to me the whole time. I thought you were a friend, fucked up though you are, the fact I was fucked up too made me feel like I'd met a muggle kindred spirit, but you aren't a muggle, are you? You're a bloody Auror or a spy!" My voice raises and I smack the table with an open palm, causing the glasses to rattle and the barman to raise his head from the pint he's pouring. I'm gutted, I trusted him.

He shakes his head and lets out a long breath. "I’m none of those things, mate, in fact I think you'd be surprised at who made the arrangements for you, someone who had a habit of preparing for the future, he had an ability to foresee what would happen."

The only person I know of who was able to make those kinds of predictions was Dumbledore and certainly not Trelawny, the Hogwarts Headmaster certainly seemed to know everything I ever had planned. I didn't know exactly how, but he had a magical gift, and I suppose that's why he was once considered the most powerful wizard in the wizarding world. But it can't be true, how or why would he think about me? How could he know how my future would pan out? A poor excuse for a Death Eater who must've broken his heart when I let Death Eaters into the school. After taking some time to think about it, I think Dumbledore kept my soul intact, he protected me, even after I'd taken the mark. Could it be true? Could he really have done that for me and more?

"Say it was true, say Dumbledore sent you, for me to trust that I’d need to know more."

"It's probably gonna piss you off, Drax, but my full name is Christian Eliphas Figg, my mum watched over Potter during his early years on Privet Drive, Little Whinging in Surrey. I knew Dumbledore from when I was a kid. Me and mum, we’re both Squibs, and dad, Eliphas, was a forward-thinking wizard who died in the first wizarding war, he didn't believe in squibs being treated as second rate in the wizarding world, nor muggleborns. Dumbledore took care of us after, like he did for countless other families. I even did a tat for him once, the year before he died, on his upper arm, it was lettering which spelled the words Dumbledore’s Army, he was proud of it and I was glad to do something for this great man who popped up in our lives once in a while."

"So, you’re telling me you looked out for me, even knowing I was sent to kill him?" I feel tears threaten, like they always do when I think of that time. I know that memory will always bring back the anxiety and fear I felt that year, the sting of it barely leaves me, but it's more prominent when I think about it.  I have that feeling of cold tremors running through my diaphragm as I remember how lost and alone, I felt.

"It's a bit of a strange story, mate, he told me you'd take care of us if I took care of you. Me and mum, being squibs and with her getting old, we're vulnerable, you know, because we couldn't protect ourselves if someone chose to attack us. It's your choice though and I'll make sure you're safe whatever you decide to do after, for him, you know."

This is ripping my heart out, I just can't fathom why Dumbledore would ever give a shit about me, much like I don't know why Hermione cares, or even Potter.

"We're going back to mums tonight; we'll stay there and make plans for what to do next. One thing’s for certain, you won’t be safe alone on the streets of muggle London."

.........

** Hermione **

I wake at six, not knowing how I fell asleep at all, considering I was so upset at Draco when I lay down. I couldn't help but have mixed feelings about what happened between us. The sex was amazing, but I feel like Draco is a rabbit hole I could easily get lost down. He hasn't been truthful with me and that hurts, especially when I thought that was what we were doing when we talked. Alright, I understand he's had feelings for me for years, but having my face tattooed on his back is verging on the ridiculous, like some crazed infatuation. I don't understand how he could do something like that and think it was normal, because it isn't, is it? I'm disconcerted and it’s a state I've been in since he stormed into my life like some domesticated fire breathing dragon, showing a side of himself I could never imagine existed. Since then, my heart and my head have warred between caring for him, lusting after him and wanting to believe he's changed, while also attempting to battle against his past prejudices and the boy he once was. When he told me he loved me was it real? Could it only be merely a fixation he developed on me as a child which has never left him? Or does he truly feel love in his heart for me? Between my need to sleep and need for answers I was torn, exhausted sleep winning in the end.

I wake to silence, interrupted by the demanding meow of a hungry Crookshanks who is flicking his tail in my face indignantly. I feel sore in places I've never experienced before now, along with a dull throb in my vagina. My stomach clenches at the memory of what I did with Draco, how I allowed myself to be drawn into doing things I would never have done before, because of my need for him to continue looking at me in the way he had that first time he touched me in my kitchen. That look is addictive, as too are the feelings in me that his gaze brings out in me. How can I decide what's right or what's real while he's here, and when I know I can break his heart so easily? Perhaps Harry moving him to the safe house might give me time to think, but my attachment to Draco has grown so much I can't allow him to go.

I rush to his door and knock. "Draco? Draco, may I come in? I need to talk to you." I hear no answer and open the door a crack, peering inside. I see his shirt and trousers discarded on the floor and I rush to the drawer I placed his clean sweats, trainers and black hoodie in, once I'd washed them. He was gone, but then I somehow knew that, because my parting words had been dismissive of his feelings. Confused or not, I was unkind, and he once said to me I was never once cruel in my responses to him, even though he may have deserved it for his torment back at school. Now I see through his bravado and perceive his vulnerability, I hope I'm able to find him and bring him home. I feel like I've been stupid, and I've considered only my feelings about what happened between us. My parents always taught me to never to let the sun set on anger without laying the matter to rest and it feels like karma has come and hit me square in the chest, because he's gone and I don't even know where to begin looking for him.

With a sore heart I get ready to go to work and update Harry.

I arrive via floo into the Ministry atrium, pushing through the usual hordes of employees. I see Harry and Ron laughing together as they wait for the lift to Level 2, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"—And then, Tracey squealed at a pitch I was sure wizards could hear at Durmstrang, and nearly burst my eardrums!" Ron cackled as I approached and placed a hand on Harry's arm.

"Hermione, I'm so glad you're here, Ron has some good news." Harry’s eyes are bright and he’s grinning toothily, like he’s caught in a wave of happiness as he listens to Ron telling me about his proposal to Tracey. I should be happy, and I am but I'm also miserable, so I put on a brave face, smiling and hugging him tightly, even though tears prick my eyes.

I wipe my tears away with the back of my forefinger. "Oh, Ron, I'm so happy for you both, she’s just a lovely girl."

Both men frown as they look at me. "You don't seem very happy, Hermione." Ron points out, shuffling his feet and glancing at the floor with apprehension.

"These are happy tears, I promise! This is so amazing! Our Ron’s getting married!" I hug him again and give him a watery smile, doing my best to sound elated.

"Oh, well, then that's alright then, but I have to say I don't understand it, mum sobbed too when we told her, she said she was happy, but I just don't get it." He seems perturbed.

"Forget about that," I pat his arm, "mothers cry when their children are leaving them, and some women cry when they’re happy, it's almost the law." I grin.

The lift opens and Ron steps inside.

"Mate I just need to have a quick chat with Hermione about a security detail for the Minister today, but if you're getting a bacon sarnie and coffee, I'll have one too." Harry beams.

"Alright, mate," he pushes the others in the lift back to make it to the metal gate closes, "I want you both to be my best wizard, um, I mean best wizard and best witch!" He calls out excitedly.

"I'd be honoured!" I wave as the lift pulls back several feet before moving upwards.

"Great news, eh?" Harry raises an eyebrow and I crumble, throwing myself into his arms in tears. To his credit he quickly finds us a nook away from everyone. "What's he done?" He sighs dramatically.

I look up sharply, my lower lip wobbling. "Why do you assume it was him?"

"Isn't it? Hermione, I have to tell you when I first found out you were together, I knew I’d be surprised if you two didn't kill each other." He jests. The trouble is he's always so close to the mark, we’re like oil and water but somehow, we’ve worked, up until now.

"We argued, then he left last night." He left me, I want to sob, he left me after I gave him something precious.

Harry tenses, his arms still wrapped around my shoulders. "The bloody idiot, I told him to stay there or I'd find him somewhere else if he couldn't—I mean, err, if things didn't work out between you."

"How will I find him; how will I get the chance to apologise? Harry, I was confused by something that happened."

"What?"

"I can't tell you, it was, um, it was personal."

He sighs deeply. "I warned you about him and I guessed whatever crusade you were on to save him would end badly for you." I tut and he continues, his voice more careful than before, "He's troubled and you're never happy unless you have a project, whether that be something to work on, or a person to better, like him. I'm sorry to be the one to say this, because I know you need more in your life. You haven't been happy for a long time and, even though I detest the idea of you two being together, I thought you'd challenge each other in a way, because you won't take his crap and I'm pretty confident he wouldn't take yours. All I want is for you to be settled, alone or in a relationship, whichever you choose. Life's short, we've seen that already, but you must find what fulfils you. If it’s not him, then find your happily ever after."

I listen to his earnest speech. "I know you're right, but there's more to it, Blaise Zabini broke through my wards and entered the flat yesterday afternoon when we were at the Burrow. I'm worried that Draco's either left or been taken, although I strengthened the wards last night so it's more likely the former. Where would he go? He'll be arrested if he goes back to the hostel, so he has to be on the streets of London somewhere." I say urgently.

He releases me from his grip and guides me to the lift. We step inside and there's a jolt as we begin our journey. Luckily for us, everyone else has now gone to their offices and we’re alone.

"I need to speak with Robards about me taking on the case, give me an hour and then I'll officially be able to do something. In the meantime, go to your office and act like nothing is out of the ordinary."

The lift stops at floor one, and he kisses the top of my head before sending me on my way. I watch him for seconds until he's out of sight.

As I exit the lift, I’m startled to find Minister Shacklebolt coming down the corridor behind me. "Miss. Granger, I was expecting you a little earlier, but it seems you and Mr. Potter were, ahem, spending some time together." He chuckles throatily.

"Oh, we were just—um, I think you might have the wrong impression; we were merely chatting about Ron’s upcoming nuptials. It left me a little tearful."

The minister frowns, "But I thought you and Mr. Weasley weren't involved?"

"No, you misunderstand me, sir. My tears are only because none of us ever thought we'd make it through the war, and these milestones are important and very emotional for us as close friends."

He nods and smiles, placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder. "Ah, it’s been some time since I thought of my own feelings about the war, being Minister fills my life and I rarely have time for anything else. Forgive me Hermione, you must take all the time you need."

"Well, we can't spend our whole lives worrying about things that were beyond our control. Tell me, what do you have for me to do today?" I ask, zoning out as he begins to fill me in on his meetings. My thoughts are on Draco and I rub my upper arms as I walk, conflicted between finding Draco and keeping my job.

Later, I sit at my desk, checking memo's and pretending to work while I wait for Harry. I receive a memo which flies in through my door and lands on my desk.

_ "Tell Kingsley you're ill and meet me in ten minutes at the phone box entrance." _

I'm so glad Harry has news; he wouldn't be able to leave if he hadn't been put on the case. I rush to Kingsley’s office and make my apologies, while holding my stomach, it seems lying has become part of the game and I don't like it, but it must be done for the greater good. Kingsley is kind as usual and tells me to rest up and not return until I'm better. In theory this gives me at least a few days to get over my imaginary stomach bug and I play on it as much as possible as I make my way to our meeting point.

When I arrive, I'm alone. In the distance at the end of the road I see a hooded figure. Might it be Draco? I take a few steps towards the person, but think better of it and hang back, waiting for Harry. I wonder where he is and I'm beginning to get anxious, pacing up and down a small section of the street. Eventually I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn with a smile. "You took your—"

I find myself staring into Zabini’ s eyes, he's dressed in muggle jeans and a black hoodie, his hands clasping my upper arms so hard it hurts. 

"We have minutes before we're found out! We're being watched, they know your every move, mine too, I apologise for our meeting the other day but Draco’s in danger and I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you. How could you let him leave?" He hisses, "I did my level best to threaten him into sticking by you and staying in your flat, but by the next morning he's been spotted in muggle London again. I've been sent to retrieve him, to Avada him, don't you understand the position you've put me in?" He demands.

"What the hell do you mean? He said you were in the employ of someone who wanted him kept in his place. Now you're telling me he's in danger? Well, excuse me if I don't believe the word of someone who could betray his best friend so easily!" I push away from him but find it's not easy, that he's stronger than I thought.

"Do you think it was that simple, Granger? Do you think I wanted this? They have my mother," He gulps for breath, "the wizard behind this found her an easy lay, and of course my mother thought she was getting husband number six! Instead, she finds herself blocked up behind a wall in our mansion’s basement. He’s threatening to brick the one remaining hole up and seal her in there forever unless I do as he asks. You need to be careful; you work with these people every day; you may not know who they are, and I can't tell you because of the unbreakable vow I've been forced to endure. I know I'm as good as dead for coming to you, but tell him, tell Draco I loved him like a brother and to please save my mother, I beg you!"

I'm too shocked to answer, but I nod, and his eyes fill with tears. I pull him close and hug him, swallowing down emotion to clear my throat. "Draco, where is Draco?"

"I followed him to the Nags Head last night, he was with a squib called Chris, I don't know where they went after that, somehow they just disappeared, but how either did, one a squib and one wandless, I can't tell you. All I know is that's where you need to start."

"A name, Zabini, who are we looking for in connection with this?" I demand.

"I can't!" He clutches his chest as he tries to speak, to tell me something, but his voice is gone. He sinks to his knees, writhing in agony. "I've made the unbreakable, I-I can't tell you, I've already told you too much."

"No!" I yell, "No, no, no!" Wasn't the war enough? Why should innocents still be dying when we fought with all we had to rid this world of one tyrant, only to find him replaced with others, people who think they know best, who are no better than Voldemort with their crackpot ideas! The only rule should be via the Minister, this world can't work without its true leader. "Blaise? Blaise, please, stay with me, please!"

"Hermione? Shit! What is this? What's happening?" Harry rushes to my side, pulling me away once he realises its Zabini.

"Where the hell have you been? He's dying and you've probably been enjoying your breakfast!" I scream, placing a hand on Blaise’s chest as his fearful eyes close, his breath coming rapidly.

Harry looks over the scene before him and immediately grasps our hands and apparates us to St. Mungo’s.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We left the last chapter on a cliffy, with Harry and Hermione apparating to St. Mungo's with Blaise Zabini. Draco is still lost and wandering muggle London, or so Harry and Hermione think...  
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting. Its always great to hear from you. I especially love how readers are trying to work out the plot in advance. Don't worry my sweets, all will be revealed in time ;)
> 
> With eternal thanks to the amazing @badwolfjedi (@bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her beta work and the amazing board for this story, she rocks! <3

**Hermione**

We managed to get Blaise to St Mungo’s in time. Harry told me they thought he’d been cursed but they had no idea with what spell. Still, they'd managed to stabilise him, and I had an idea what happened, it had to be something dark, but then I’m not a healer and I could only tell them what he told me. Harry organised a security Auror to watch over his room once I had time to fill him in on everything that happened with Blaise outside the Ministry.

I think about the person in the hoodie who was at the other end of the street when I arrived, and my stomach churned. Blaise’s words cycle around my brain as I try to digest them, to take some meaning from them or spot a clue to any of this madness. I’m sitting on a hard- plastic chair while Draco is out there in mortal danger and we have no clues, I try to think. Think, Hermione, who at the Ministry could it be? Who really hates the fact the Death Eaters escaped? Who would be good looking or just rich enough to be a catch for Zabini’s mother? The woman who every person in the wizarding world knows has been married five times already and is filthy rich.

_“We're being watched, they know your every move, mine too, I apologise for our meeting the other day, but Draco’s in danger. How could you let him leave?"_

I was terrified as I watched what happened to Blaise, but I wonder if something was wrong with me, because I feel nothing now, just numb, and any fear I experienced was nothing compared to the war. I wonder how Blaise could blame me. Not only was the guy an utter prick to me when I last saw him, Draco has a mind of his own, and a bloody stubborn one at that, if his past history is taken into account. The man I’m finding myself falling for may have changed, but there are some things that are just a part of you, some things you can only work on to make better about yourself, they never truly leave you. I should know, I have my own faults I've had years to reflect on and still struggle with daily.

"We need to go now, while the trail is still hot, I’ve sent a contingent of Auror’s to Zabini manor to check out Blaise’s story, but I’m not holding out much hope. If whoever this is was watching you and Blaise then the chances are they’ve moved his mother, or—I, um, I think we may need to prepare ourselves for the worst, because if they were willing to brick the poor witch up behind a wall, they’re capable of her murder." Harry stands over me and places a hand on my shoulder as I sit with my head bowed trying to work out our next move. I wonder why, when Blaise’s mother is likely going through hell, my only though is that I feel so broken without Draco. 

I nod, taking his arm as we apparate into muggle London, to a back alley behind the Nag’s Head, where Zabini saw him go last night. Dishevelled, we both head to the pub, which is closed as its still barely 10am. I bang on the door with a closed fist. "I can't wait! I need to find him, this isn't right." I turn to tell Harry, "This could've been one of us! If they can take Draco and do this to Blaise, they could do this to us!" 

"People would notice if we disappeared Hermione." Harry said gently.

"I know you’re right, but it would only take a moment, one opportunity when we were alone and they could come to our homes and take us, Harry. I thought we'd made a better world, but I can't live in a world where someone can be taken, kidnapped or bloody lost like this, it isn't right!" I bang against the door several more times and I hear a gruff voice.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" We hear someone call from inside. The door opens a crack and I'm faced with an older man, much taller than me with long, straggly salt and pepper hair. He looks at my desperation and hands me a piece of paper. "Just take the sodding note and leave me be." He slams the door in my face.

I’d feel shocked by his treatment any other time, but I scrabble to open the note and read it out to Harry.  

 

_“Find Lord Drax at the place scar head first lived, with the one he met in the underpass.”_

 

Harry blanches but then let's out a hoot of laughter, slapping his legs. “I thought I’d never have to go back to that shit-hole! Trust it to be Draco-sodding-Malfoy who’s staying with Mrs Figg! Especially when squibs are lower than muggleborns in purebloods eyes.” He wipes a stray tear from his cheek, still chuckling.

I know what Harry suffered at the hands of the Dursleys and I have to say I don’t like the thought of him going back there. “You know he’s not like that anymore, I wouldn’t have been—err—what I mean to say is—”

“You wouldn’t be shagging him if he was, hmm?” He hums, stepping back in case I decide to slap him. The thought did flitter through my mind, but we have better things to do.

“Harry!” I snort, he’s such a git. “Are you sure you’re alright with it? Going there.” I place my hand tentatively on his arm.

“Oh, bloody hell, yeah, my aunt and uncle left with Dudders before the war, you know, the night you and the Order came for me. Seems, they never went back. Mrs. Figg told me they’d sold up and moved to Somerset. Dudley writes to me occasionally, he’s at University in Exeter studying Sociology. He had more brawn than brains as a kid but there must’ve been something there.” He shakes his head with mirth. “Big-D, met a girl, his life’s none too exciting but I’m glad he escaped middle class England and turned out alright in the end, he’s the only family I’d give the time of day to.”

Any other time a conversation like this would warm the cockles of my heart, but we’re wasting time, Harry, come on, we need to get going. God, I’m too polite to say while he reminisces his childhood, as he doesn’t often say too much. “We should get going.” I give him a bemused smile.

“Sorry, Hermione, it’s been so long since I even thought of Privet Drive, I just lost myself for a second.” He holds his arm out to me, and we're in the back alley again apparating to our next destination.

We arrive inside an empty house; it’s filled with dust and all I see is the familiar striped wallpaper of when I last ventured here to help take Harry to safety in fifth year. “It’s still empty?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s mine now. I dunno why but I had a silly idea that I didn’t ever want a kid to be locked inside the cupboard under the stairs here again, so I bought it.” His voice cracks and I feel deeply for him and his less than idyllic childhood.

“It’s not silly, we’ll find a use for it, eh?” I knock him with my elbow, “maybe rip that cupboard out and do something good with it? Make it a charitable home for a family fleeing abuse?” I suggest.

His eyes light up, “I’d like that.” He peers at the cupboard door, walks over and rips it off its hinges, bricking it up with his wand. “There, that’s a start.”

“It is.” I soothe, but my eyes are on the front room window, wondering what address we’ll be going to next.

“Wisteria Walk’s a few streets over.” He tells me, marching off and waving to a neighbour who’s cutting the grass on their front lawn opposite. They lift their hand uncertainly, clearly unused to seeing anyone exit the empty house.

……………

**Draco**

I wake in an unfamiliar bed and it takes a moment before the occurrences of the previous day hit me like a bludger to the head. Shit, I left her, and now she’ll never take me back. I think it was only the skinful of alcohol I had with Chris upon our return to his mother’s house that knocked me out enough to sleep. I pinch between my eyes with the tips of my fingers and blink rapidly, trying to shake off my hangover and the slight smell of cabbage that permeates the room.

There’s a tentative tap on the door and an older woman with a dark hair in a blue hair-net and a kindly face comes in with a cup of tea in her hand, followed by a snow-white cat, half-kneazle if I’m not mistaken. It jumps onto the bed and immediately demands affection by rubbing its head against my hand.

“Oh, that’s Snowy, Draco, she has absolutely no morals and will love any visitor to death.” She smiles, passing me the tea, which I take gratefully. “My son told me he brought you here last night and I’m pleased to have you in my home. How are you feeling?” She says in a shaky voice. She’s tiny, with sympathetic eyes, her hair is greying and wrapped in some weird pink rolls. I try not to look too closely as it seems impolite.

“Um, well, to say my head isn’t pounding like I drank half of London is an understatement. I apologise for meeting you in such a way.”

Her eyes light up at my gentlemanly apology. “Oh, no, you mustn’t mind that at all. Chris has an appetite for alcohol but he’s a good boy really, he’s just a bit lost. He told me you’ve been good to him.”

“More like he’s been good to me. He told me you were both squibs, that your husband was a wizard, err, ahem,” I clear my throat, but its better to get the questions over and done with, I need to know why she and Chris were asked to look out for me by Dumbledore, “excuse me if I’m being impolite asking these questions at such an early hour.”

“Draco, the fact my husband died at the hands of your father in the first war doesn’t mean I believe you are like him in any way.” I drop my head in embarrassment, another one who fell at the hands of Lucius and the Dark Lord’s sick ideology. “Of course, it was when Chris told me you were sweet on Hermione Granger, that told me all I needed to know about you, Draco.”

Grateful for the swift change of conversation after the revelation it was my father who killed her husband, I feel my cheeks heat and I sip on my tea thoughtfully. “I’ve been sweet on her every day since I was eleven.” I admit. Something about the kindly woman makes me feel like I could tell her anything.

“I used to babysit Harry Potter in his younger years. My Chris had left home by then and I was tasked with keeping an eye on him by Dumbledore.” She beamed as if remembering happy times. "Dumbledore talked about you as well, he said someone had showed him a vison of you in the future, in the muggle world, and how you would need someone to watch over you. He also said he knew the sort of person you were under the darkness forced upon you, and that you would never abandon a friend. I know you consider Chris to be a friend as much as he does you. Whatever happens, we are here for you Draco." 

I nod. “Mrs Figg, thank you for taking me into your lovely home, and do tell me more about Potter on his potty.” I give her an impish smile, changing the tone back to lighter things.

“You boys are so very mischievous; don’t think I don’t know that.” She stands and walks to the door, “But, its nice to have company, I’ll cook you breakfast, and we can talk more.”

I follow her to the kitchen and although there is a smell of overcooked cabbage still, its over-ridden by the scent of sizzling bacon, which makes my mouth water. Chris is sitting at the table with a strange concoction in a large glass before him, looking like he’s trying to find the courage to drink it.

“Hair of the dog that bit you, mate? A half glass of beer, tomato juice, orange juice, Worcester sauce and a raw egg. You want one?”

“Err, I don’t think I can say no strongly enough.” I eye him as he picks the glass up and swallows the lot, wrinkling my nose at the awful sight.

“More tea, Draco?” I see Mrs Figg holding the pot over my cup.

“That would be wonderful.” I tell her as she pours from a huge brown tea pot. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask politely. Yes, I know years ago I would’ve considered this servants work, but I’m quite capable of caring for myself nowadays, well, apart from cooking, that skill quite eludes me.

“No, dear, everything is under control, but you’re such a good boy for asking.”

Chris sniggers behind his hand, “You’re trying to butter up the old bird!”

“Christian Figg, you behave yourself while we have company! You can wash the dishes for that.” She doesn’t seem stern, but there’s a look in her eye which tells me Chris won’t argue.

He sighs melodramatically and I can’t help but shoot him an amused look as he scowls. Standing at over six feet and covered in tattoos he might be, but he still listens to his mother and I know it’s likely my own mother would make me feel the same way too, if I forgot my manners.

There’s a knock at the door as we eat and Mrs Figg rushes to answer. “Harry!” I hear her exclaim and wonder if I’ll ever escape the boy who bloody lived to make my life a misery. Alright, alright, don’t chide me for it, he’s almost someone I might consider an acquaintance, if not a fair-weather friend now, but I won’t ever admit that to anybody, so keep your gob shut. You need not worry about my opinion on Harry as my mind goes into overdrive and I get a burning feeling in my chest when the prettiest women I’ve ever seen walks in behind him, giving me a tight lipped smile, her honey eyes flashing with annoyance, swiftly switched off as she turns and gives Mrs Figg a dazzling smile.

Chris shoves the last piece of his sausage in his mouth and places his huge hand on my shoulder. “She’s even more magnificent in real life, mate.”

I hear him chewing in my ear and shove him away with my elbow. “She’s mad as hell.” I observe, as he uses a piece of toast to mop up some sauce on his plate. I love the bloke, but his table manners are worse than Weasley’s.

Mrs Figg sets about making more tea and chatting to Harry when Hermione takes a seat opposite me at the table, her look conveying the possibility of my early demise. I hear a chair squeak on the floor and watch Chris rise to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans and taking a knee beside her. She glances at me haughtily but then gives him a shy smile, Gods, I could kill her for that. Jealousy hits my gullet, causing me to take a deep breath.

“Hermione Granger, as I live and breathe, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.” He takes her hand and kisses it with a sly smirk directed at me.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve made your acquaintance before, you must be Chris? And I must tell you, that’s such a cool Mohican.” She shots me a look of distain and I feel like I want to kick the living shit out of the only man I could call an actual friend in my crappy life.

Harry peers at me over the top of his glasses and snorts, quickly going back to his conversation with Mrs Figg when I give him a thunderous look.

“Are you currently dating—?” Chris begins.

I slam my hands on the table. “Right! That’s enough!” I rise and grab her by the arm, tugging her towards the lounge. Yes, I’m a covetous twat and I deserve her wrath, but at least I’m not an idiot, I know she’s going to rip me to shreds for this, but better to get it over with than watching Chris simper over her.

“How dare you!” She shrieks as I pull her into the lounge and close the door, “How you even have the gall to pull me around like I somehow belong to you, I can’t comprehend!” Her flashing eyes are stunning, like an avenging dragon, and I can’t help but watch as golden light crackles at her fingertips. Yes, I’m fucking petrified she might hex every hair from my head, but I don’t think she’d be so mad if she didn’t care about me. Still, it doesn’t stop the rush of emotion from last nights events causing my dander to rise.

……

**Hermione**

"I think your feelings were made perfectly clear last night, Granger." His eyes flash in a familiar sneer, "I know what I said last night might’ve made it seem like things were moving too fast, it was probably because I felt some form of exultation at meeting someone I knew from the wizarding world, you, no less. Look, I realize now it was a mistake, though I thank you for your assistance," he continues, his voice stilted and his demeanour stiff, reminding me of his father, "I’ll stay here with Mrs Figg and Chris and await my return to mother once Potter looks into the matter further, they’ve been very welcoming here."

I want to hex his mouth shut; how could he say such a thing to me of all people? “And I haven’t been? Is that what you’re trying to say? I almost bent over backwards to be welcoming to you, for Circe’s sake, I took you into my home when you were injured, and I let you stay the night even after I found out it was you!”

“Yeah, when your hero complex tickled at your psyche! You’re always the saviour, Granger, but when are you going to realise if you carry on like this, you’ll end up a dried-up old spinster with only your ugly old cat for company?”

I want to slap him; I want to punch his nose bloody like I did that time in third year. If he thinks he’s the only man I’ll ever know like that, he’s dreaming! Just because he’s my first, doesn’t mean he’ll be my last, even if secretly I want him to be. I get a sick feeling in my stomach, worried I’ve made a huge mistake, but I won’t let him do this to me, not him, not bloody him! “Back to Granger is it? Now you’ve had me! How dare you? I’ll have you know; you wouldn’t even be here now if I hadn’t realised you were missing in the first place!”

“And, again, I revert to what I already said about your hero complex! Hermione Granger, side kick to the saviour of the fucking wizarding world! Sees a problem and tries to fix it, because unless the world’s perfect, she can’t cope!” He baits me, hitting below the belt with that one, and I throw my hands up in the air, stalking away from him, returning seconds later, raring at the bit.

“I am not the one who’s trying to psychoanalyse people here, I could say you have a bloody persecution complex or even an inferiority complex, because you don’t realise your own choices are the reason you ended up in such dire circumstances! You told me you loved me, then you showed signs of obsession, that’s why I’m so conflicted Draco, that’s why I don’t know what to believe.” I move into his space, feeling his breath racing over my face, “I want to know why? Why did you leave me when we’d said we’d work together like a team once I found help and we were searching for those responsible for this? Did you think, if you left, I wouldn’t seek the purveyor of this injustice anyway, and still find a way to free you regardless?” I’m on a roll and there’s no way of stopping my anger. I know I’m taking it all out on him, my sadness at his betrayal by leaving after we made love, the fact he left without even leaving a note, the fact I trusted him and now feel an idiot for it. “No! You didn’t trust me enough, all you did was run away like a boy, not a man, a boy!”

He’s glowering at me darkly and I know I’ve overstepped the mark. We both look up as Mrs Figg enters with a tray of tea and biscuits.

“Now, dears, I suggest you both stop before you say something you’ll regret.” She offers me her hanky and I realise I’m crying. I’m sobbing because I never believed after all we said and his apology, that he’d hurt me again. But he has, and he’s showing no sign of remorse. I feel like a fool for ever believing anything he said.

I mop my eyes and dare a glance at him. He looks like his face might crumple at any moment, like he’s steeling himself against some agony he feels.

Harry enters, “Everything alright in here? I was worried you might take out your wand and hex Draco’s dick off for a moment.” He raises his eyebrows as he looks at us both. I choke back a sob and flee the room.

……….

**Draco**

This habit of being brutally honest about my thoughts is, and has always been, my downfall. I know she probably didn’t mean to hurt me last night and the fact I hurt her back is like an arrow to my fucking heart, but then as I’ve already said, I’m not used to being the person on the unrequited end of love. I know the tattoo was a bad decision, but at the time I had it done, it seemed like, if I had her tattooed on my back, I might feel like she was with me, that she was at my side as I walked the muggle world. But, how can I explain such ridiculousness to her, when she couldn’t understand how alone I felt in the muggle world at first? This was never an obsession; it was always a love that would never have been anything other than unreciprocated if things had remained as they were. I knew that as soon as I wanted her, knew I could never prove myself to her. Last night there was a chance it might no longer be that way, that she might have just listened to my declaration and then eventually grown to love me. We were so good together, I had no doubts about it for a time, but then all of a sudden, she was back to doubting me because of my mistake. It’s only been a matter of days and we’re fighting like this, and she’s run off sobbing, breaking my blackened heart into pieces.

“Malfoy, I warned you not to hurt her.” Potter’s green eyes pierce mine with a look of severity.

“I didn’t mean to, it was a misunderstanding, she thought—fuck—I don’t know what she thought, but I’ve buggered things up.” I start to head out of the room to follow her when he grasps my arm.

“Don’t do it again, I’m bloody warning you.” We both stare each other down but eventually I nod, because, if she'll take me back, I want at least one other person on my side against this cruel world, even if he may not be my first choice. 

I hear Mrs Figg tell him to leave me, and I shake him off and stride after Hermione, hearing him change tack quickly and ask her how things have been in Little Whinging.

Hermione is in the garden, which backs off from the kitchen. I see her shoulders shaking as she paces, her lips moving as she talks to herself, and I watch her for a moment before gathering the courage to face her. Striding forth a few paces I stand behind her.

“I feel like I’m always apologising to you for something.” I utter.

"Well, I feel like you're calling my bluff, like you found a way to get to me and you've taken advantage of it." She speaks, her voice hitching.

"I've been the world’s biggest pratt, but I'm no liar, I've always told you the truth, princess." I speak gently but I want to shake her and make her believe it.

“Then maybe I'm not the only one who deserves an apology.” She sniffs, but doesn’t turn to look at me, “I feel I could’ve dealt with the matter of your tattoo a little better and I'm sorry you felt you had to leave, Draco." I drop my eyes to her perfect arse, and at any other time I'd be happy to stare at it all day, but now isn't the time. 

“I’ve missed you. I regretted leaving as soon as I did, but I had to get out, I was so used to walking off my problems, I felt stifled. Once I left, I thought we could’ve talked in the morning, like you said, but then I’d already locked myself out and finding Chris seemed to be the best idea at the time.”

She snorts lightly, “We all do and say stupid things, Draco. Look, I’m sorry for saying you were a boy running away. It was uncalled for; we’re not kids anymore and the pressure we’ve been under has changed us, made us panic when things are no longer the norm or easy.”

I place my hands on her hips and nudge my nose through the hair next to her ear, murmuring, “I thought I proved that I wasn’t a boy anymore to you last night, you were so sexy I couldn't stop thinking about you afterwards.” She lets out an embarrassed laugh and I take that as cue to pull her closer, crossing my arms below her breasts and letting out a deep sigh as I feel her warmth against me once more. This just feels right. She reaches one arm up to caress the hair at the nape of my neck and just the very feel of her sends a throb to my dick and another to my heart. We stay like that for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying being together. It gives me hope that she might keep me in her life, because, being honest, I don't know what I'd do without her now, I can't see a future without her in it and actually I’ll do anything she wants to stay with her.

She turns in my arms and places both hands on my chest. “You know, if you be with me, you’ll always have to put up with my causes. I’ll never be able to watch anyone suffer without offering help of some kind.” She doesn’t look at me when she speaks and I know this is the ultimatum, I have to know this if we’re to be anything more.

“I know, and I’m sorry I blurted out, well, you know, last night.” I steel myself; I need make myself clear or this burgeoning relationship could end without me ever telling her why I feel the way I do. She’s offering me something here, just by mentioning what it might be like if I stay with her. I lift a hand to tilt up her chin and seeing her golden-brown eyes on mine once more almost renders me undone, like stars showering down as the sun dips just below the horizon in summer. “I’ve always loved that about you, how you give, how you don’t expect anything in return. I’m sorry I threw it in your face back then, because, truly Hermione, it’s one of the first things I ever loved about you.” Her eyes are filling with tears again and I lift a finger to bush them away.

She shakes her head, her curls floating in the breeze. “I want to tell you I love you, but it’s too soon, there’s too much unresolved between us, but I’m willing to try, I really want to try because nobody I’ve ever been with has made me feel the way I do about you. Sometimes I want to murder you, but then at other times you’re so sweet and angelic I find myself wondering why I ever thought that at all.”

I chuckle, “Well, it sounds much like my mother and father’s relationship.”

“Ugh, I don’t know how your mother ever put up with Lucius.” I watch her lips curl into a tiny smile.

“They were very well suited as a match, actually, and things were different when I was a child, they were very much in love. I know my mother will be missing him now. Like anyone, he had his good and bad points, but he was mostly a good husband to my mother, until—you know.”

She frowns. “Do you think we should visit him and ask him if he knows anything about all this?”

I feel the urge to vomit at the suggestion. A year away from everything that happened has made me feel less inclined to visit my own father, because it means revisiting all he was, and seeing what the first year of a lifetimes imprisonment in Azkaban does to a person. That person who could easily have been me. I struggle to breathe, and I think Hermione realises I’m about to have a full-blown anxiety attack, as she places both palms on my face and tells me to take deep breaths. “I-I don’t know if I can, it’s too close to home for me.” I admit.

“Then I’ll go, I’ll go with Harry.” She mutters softly.

My hearts hammering like it might jump out of my chest and leave me dead on the floor, I lose control and shout, shaking like a leaf. “No! You won’t, I won’t have you anywhere near him!”

"Alright, OK, I won't do anything, I promise." She speaks carefully, rubbing my arms as I try to calm down.

I trail a finger over her lower lip, feeling it bounce as I drag my finger lower, over her chin and over the column of her neck, "Please stay with me." I mutter as I use her eyes to ground me. 

She soothes me, murmuring in my ear about how it’s OK, we don’t need to decide about anything now, we can wait. Harry can go alone to see my father. It’s at that moment I fully realise that were both two broken souls who’ve found each other in amongst the ruins of war. She struggles as I struggle, even Potter and Weasley have their own struggles, none of us have come away untarnished, even the winners. I wonder if there were ever any winners anyway. The majority of those of the side of the Dark Lord were terrified of him, the opposing side, the same.

We spend the next ten minutes holding each other until we decide we must return inside and being in her arms gives me a feeling of security I haven't felt in a long time. I want her to feel that way about me too and that gives me strength.

As I kiss her, she moans and nips at my lip. “Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

“Never, princess, I promise, I’ve wanted you for so long,” my breath hitches, “I’ve always wanted you and I’ll never leave your side unless you ask me to.”

She beams and touches the tip of my nose with a tiny kiss, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen, I’ve waited too long for somebody like you.” She swathes a soft, velvety cheek over mine.

We stay like that for a while and eventually we link hands and head back inside. She lifts my hand, planting a swift kiss before letting me go and heading to talk to Harry.

Chris stands and slings an arm around my shoulders. “Mate, she is stunnin’ and you’d better treat her right, or she’ll be in my bed next, did you see that smile when I kissed her hand.” He chortles.

“I highly doubt that, mate, she has some standards.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I let out a belly laugh.

“True, mate, but then why the fuck is she with you?” He guffaws and I shake with laughter. You’ve got to love this guy.

Hermione’s speaking with Harry, the two of them glance at me for the second time, deep in conversation, as Mrs. Figg passes me a plate of sandwiches.

"Eat up, lad, you're too thin, I spent eleven years wanting to feed Harry up. His uncle and aunt lived only a street away, and I know they didn't feed him properly. Of course, they moved away when things got difficult, but I clearly remember the day Harry's owl turned up for Hogwarts. His uncle turned the first owl away and, I swear on my son’s life, there were thousands of owls who turned up after, flying through the air above the houses. I fed treats to some who stopped for a break in my garden. Surrey’s a long way from Scotland.”

“Yeah, they shat all over the neighbour’s houses, Harry, you should’ve seen it.” Chris roars with laughter as his mother pours them more tea and tuts at her son.

…………..

**Hermione**

“Things are alright again then?” Harry asks, his eyes darting towards Draco.

“Yeah, I think they are, we—well, you saw us rowing, but then he was so sweet. Oh, Merlin, I think some of my difficulties come from my distrust of people since the war, it’s hard to let that go, you know? To let someone in. He says he loves me—” I bite my lip. I don’t expect an answer from Harry, I’m just using him as a sounding board.

Mrs Figg sits and takes hold of my hand, her voice low, “You know, dear, he told me he’s been sweet on you since he was eleven. Now, that’s doesn’t seem like somebody who truly doesn’t care, does it?”

We all look back at Draco and I see him glance up questioningly. I clear my throat, “No, no it doesn’t, does it?” I peer dreamily back at him.

Harry snicker’s and I elbow him absently, not taking my eyes of the gorgeous blonde, who is engrossed in conversation with Chris. “Harry, Draco said he wouldn’t let me go to see Lucius, but I think you need to convince him that we all need to go, I want to know whether anything happened to him after his trial, whether he heard anything or perhaps he knows who these people might be. Please, for me.” I give him a pleading glance. I feel like this visit might be cathartic for all of us, especially Draco, and I also feel he will continue to serve a life sentence in his mind, if he doesn’t resolve his problems with his father.

“I’m going to be in so much trouble for this. You owe me big time.” He sighs and turns towards the table. “Malfoy, we need information from Lucius I only think we’ll gain from all three of us visiting him in Azkaban, but then, if you’re too scared—”

The temperature in the room seemed to dip by ten degrees and Draco stopped on a half laugh, neglecting a joke he was sharing with Chris, snapping is head to us, his glare, icy.

“Potter, you are an utter prick to make me take her there, she’s only going to end up hurt, you know what Lucius is like!”

“How about I tell you the full story of what’s happened to her since you left last night?” Harry begins to tell Draco what happened with Blaise and I watch both Chris and Mrs Figg sit in chairs by his side, their eyes wide and mouths open in shock as they listen to the full story.

Draco’s head is in his hands by the time he’s finished. “Why do you think my father will know anything?” He runs his hands through his hair.

I walk to him and sit on his lap, “If anyone knows, he’ll know, sweetheart, he might be able to direct us to something you might not remember. We have a feeling you were sent away, but other Death Eaters might’ve been given similar treatment by these people. We think they may have used a memory charm on you, but they likely wouldn’t bother on those who were sentenced to life. Harry has a hunch its someone from within the Ministry. There are so few Death Eaters unaccounted for, he thinks there must be more than one person within the Ministry who’s done this, perhaps a group who hold the same beliefs, people who want to stamp out every Death Eater to prevent another war. They might think they’re do-gooder’s or vigilantes.”

“Ron gave me the idea,” Harry continues, “I don’t believe he’d be part of it, but the reason he wouldn’t testify for you, was because he felt every Death Eater receiving the kiss was the only way to prevent another war. The night we—” I look up to watch Mrs Figg and Chris staring with baited-breath, like this is some kind of soap opera, waiting for Harry to further inform us of his theory. I stoke Draco’s neck and feel him relax slightly. Harry continues, “Um, the night we had that fist fight, I told you of my suspicions and I feel we have the Ministry to blame. I’m asking you to do this, Malfoy, I know it’ll be hard but he’s the only one who can give us any real information without arousing suspicion.”

Draco temples his fingers before his mouth and closes his eyes. “That’s all well and good, but I can’t use a wand, I can’t perform magic without them finding me, can’t apparate and it’s unlikely they’d let me see him, even if I could.”

I notice Mrs Figg and Chris’s heads were moving from side to side as if they’re watching a tennis match, the only other sounds in the kitchen are Mrs Figg’s cats strolling under the table, purring as their tails brush our legs.

“That’s what my cloak is for. If we’re careful, Hermione and I can get in and out with you and they’ll be none the wiser.”

I feel Draco’s back straighten and the power of his muscular body vibrate under me, it feels like he’s made a decision and he’s steeling himself.

“Potter, if this is some deliberate ploy to get me locked up, I’ll—”

I place my forefinger over his lips before he says anything else. “No. If there was ever a time to trust us, trust me, then this is it. I promise you.”

Draco’s eyelashes flutter as he lifts his head, “Hermione, you’re killing me here.”

I drop my mouth to his ear and whisper, “Not right now, but I can promise you several little deaths later.”

He shakes his head with a sly smile and looks up to Harry. “Alright. You should be glad she has such a hold over me, or I’d hex your arse off.” He smirks.

Harry pulls his cloak out of his pocket and shakes it out. “No time like the present.”

………………

**Draco**

You know those nightmares you had as a child? Where you thought every nasty thing you could ever imagine might come out of the dark and take you? Well, that's what they're asking me to face, to head to the worst place I could ever imagine and confront the monster, fuck, the monster who was also the person who once scared my nightmares away as a child. The man who loved me and taught me how to fly, laughed as he taught me wizards chess and I lost, but sometimes let me win, took me to Diagon Alley for my school supplies, but later morphed into someone who terrified me in other ways. I know instantly I'm doing it for her. I can't explain it; I'd do anything to keep her by my side. I know the pair of us together are complicated, more complex than any couple I've ever known, and she already knows I'd do anything for her, but I sometimes wonder whether drawing her into my tangled web of a life is a good thing for her. It's like taking a ball of light and sinking back into the darkness with it clutched in your hands, then watching until it dims to nothing. That's what I'm afraid of, her losing herself to me. It's not her fault, she's as brave as ever, walking through the doors to Azkaban. She tilts her chin up and marches forward like she belongs there, while I cower under Potter’s cloak like the gutless wonder, because I can't bear to be here at all. 

"Keep close." Potter whispers as Hermione begins to speak to the guards, gesticulating at Harry and telling them she has permission to visit my father. I wonder how in the hell this girl has the balls to walk into Azkaban like she's been sent there on a mission, and I'm in absolute awe of her. This is how she was in the war, like a glorious light, and whenever I watched her fight for what is good, I fell in love with her a little bit more and my hatred of myself increased.

I follow as they're both taken to my father’s cell, up the damp stone steps leading to the top floor. They barely speak to the guards, apart from the niceties, then we're instantly inside his cell and the door slams behind us. My heart begins to race, and I take deep shuddering breaths to maintain control.

When I see him, I take a sharp intake of breath as I watch Hermione walk towards the filthy person who sits on the bed, his once white blonde hair dirty, lank and hanging over his face like some street urchin. It's him, of course it's him, who else would be in my father’s cell?

"Mr Malfoy, I'm here to ask you some questions." She begins, and I beg him with every fibre of my being not to hurt her with whichever words he chooses to use. I purse my lips to stop myself from shouting that right at him.

"Miss Granger?" A broken voice says, "I'd recognise your voice anywhere."

He's silent but doesn't look up from his shuddering hands on his lap. She shuffles from one foot to another anxiously. "Yes, it's me."

"Do you have news of my son? My wife?" He asks, clasping his fingers to stop the shaking, his nails grimy with dirt, his hair plastered against his forehead.

"I'm afraid we can only tell you they're well, Lucius." Harry speaks, his voice authoritative. 

"Ah, Mr Potter, where Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are, you are sure to be not far behind." My father still doesn't meet their eyes and the urge to vomit is upon me, my emotions swirling like a tornado. I long to grasp Hermione’s hand and pull her far away from him, to protect her from his bile.

"It's only me and Hermione today, and it's Auror Potter nowadays." Harry doesn't move from his spot.

My father nods. I would expect him to snort or sneer, but he just seems to accept it.

"May I call you Lucius?" Hermione speaks with the gentle voice I notice she uses when trying to calm a person.

"It seems I have little choice in anything nowadays, Miss Granger." He says tiredly.

"In which case, you may call me Hermione." She sits gently on his cot beside him. The sheets are stained and yellowed and she doesn't flinch as she sits next to him, ignoring the scent of mould clinging to every part of the grimy room and the fact his clothes are soiled and threadbare. I hate this, I didn't want to see his degradation, this was why I refused to come in the first place, because I knew the fine man he once was, would be no longer.

"Lucius, as I already said, I have some questions for you. Before I ask them, I need you to understand that these are to keep your son and wife safe, Harry and I are not here under Ministry decree, we've risked our careers to come to speak with you. In fact, we shouldn't be here at all."

I watch my father peer at her through a lank curtain of hair and see him inquisitive for the first time, a light in his eyes that wasn't there before, and I suppose that's the mischievous side of my father I remember as a child. He always loved it when we got up to no good and might be caught out by my mother eating biscuits before dinner or flying brooms over her prized roses. 

"Go on." His deep voice a little more confident as it carries through the room.

"We need to know if more happened after your trial." She probes.

"Miss Granger, I'm not sure you could deal with the details, but I can only assume you require the details of what the Ministry men did to me before I was brought to this place?" 

"Lucius, please don’t feel I’m unable to deal with the finer details, I am no silly schoolgirl," she chides, "we're here to find those people and bring them to justice. If you're able to tell us anything at all, it will help us. All we know now is that they are seeking out witches and wizards who evaded imprisonment and dolling out illegal punishments."

I watch his fists clench and unclench, but his demeanour is unthreatening. "And when were you going to tell me my son is here? Were you going to allow me to reveal those things as he waits and listens under, what I can only assume, is Potter’s infamous cloak?"

That's it! I, sodding, knew he'd notice me! Malfoy magic can sense Malfoy magic. Potter gives me a look of uncertainty but whips the cloak off, leaving me standing as large as life opposite my father. Fuck! Why did they talk me into this? I'll be having strong words with Potter after this, which may include another punch in the mouth. I glance to Hermione and she grimaces with an apologetic look. I nod, informing her it's alright, after all, it was Potter who revealed me, not her. 

"Why don't you start by telling me how you have this amazing witch under your spell." My father looks up for the first time.

"Don’t, the details of my life are not yours to know after what you did!” I hiss.

“Draco don’t be obtuse. I ask because I care about your wellbeing, not because of any hidden agenda. I accept you believe me to be some irredeemable fiend, some hellion who wrought the full wrath of the Dark Lord upon our family, but I believe you are not so foolish to believe, at least at the beginning, that I had only our families best interests at heart. To reject him upon his return was tantamount to a death sentence for us all.”

I nod sharply. Yes, I want to believe there is a smidgeon of good in him, I want to be that boy who jumped into his arms when he came and checked under the bed for horrors. “I'm not sure I can tell you how, Father, I can’t tell you whether she saved me, or I saved her." I await his reprisal, but he looks to her and back to me.

"You always had good taste, my boy. Miss—Hermione is, after all, the brightest witch of your age."

I'm gobsmacked and glance at her, her body is stiff, awaiting a nasty comment to follow his benevolent words. "She's clever, beautiful and I can't explain how she ever thought I was worthy of her." I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"Hermione," he turns and grasps her hand, "I'll tell you all you need to know." I freeze as he touches her, feeling Potter do the same, "I'll tell you if you promise to take care of my son. You have every apology I'm capable of if you just promise me, you'll allow him every opportunity to make you happy. I know that look, the look he gave you just then, you see," he turns fully to her and reaches out to cup her face in a fatherly way, "I know, because it's the way I've always seen him look at you." Hermione's eyes are wide at the encounter though she doesn't break the spell, she allows him to continue, "I apologise for the ways he was indoctrinated in, to consider you the lesser witch because of your blood. I've had time to consider many things during my time in here, and the one person who weighed heavily on my mind was you, the paradox to my beliefs."

"Hermione, we don't have time for this." Potter said, getting antsy and looking back at the door.

"No, Harry, we only have what Lucius will give us, he has nothing but time." She reprimands, shooting a look that said ‘wait a minute’ before turning back to him and taking both of my father’s shaking hands in hers. 

Sweet Salazar, I don't think I could love her more than right now. This woman has such capacity for forgiveness and kindness as well as taking no crap from anybody, she is phenomenal. I walk to sit behind her, knowing my father is watching me, and I curl an arm around her waist possessively, before looking at my father’s face over her shoulder. He's aged, he looks tired and almost like he's given up, a shell of the man I once knew, but then he was already that way when he was arrested. A small curl raises his lips as he watches me rest my chin on her shoulder. 

"Tell me of my Narcissa, I remember when she and I were as close as you both, I miss those times." I watch his eyes light up as he speaks my mother’s name. 

"She's under house arrest, it'll end a year from now, but I've visited, and she is well." Hermione smiles.

Harry, still wary, speaks out again. I get it, we don’t have time for stories of young lovers. "Mr Malfoy, we must know what happened and who was involved." He shifts on his feet.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I almost forgot why you were all here. I take it you want names?" 

"I think you know that's the information we require." Harry seems to understand he's more likely to get flies with honey rather than vinegar and follows Hermione's example, speaking politely, regardless of the contentious relationship he and my father share.

"Give me another moment with my son and the charming Hermione and I will give you the names."

"Why not," Harry rolls his eyes, "we'll all be joining you at this rate, Mr Malfoy." I meet his eyes as he chuckles and shake my head with a grin.

"Robards and Weasley were the only two I recognised, I think they thought I wouldn’t be allowed visitors, and perhaps hoped I would lose my mind after a lifetime in here." He used the upturned palm of his hand to gesticulate to the cell. “They didn’t even bother trying to disguise themselves.”

Even my heart stopped at the names. Harry's boss and Weasley, which Weasley?

Hermione has my father’s hands clenched in hers, and I see him wince as she squeezes them tightly. "Was it Ronald? Oh, please, Lucius, don't tell me it was Ron!" She's biting her lips together and her whole body is taut, like she might burst into tears. I look at Harry and he's blanched, looking green around the gills.

My father lets go of one of her hands and pats her other. "No, it was an elder Weasley son, I think the third son, Percy? The one who was prefect the first year you when you were a school. They beat me senseless with some others I can't name in the cells below the Wizangamot, it took me two weeks to recover without any medical care.”

I know he probably deserved the beating and he would probably agree, if it was Ministry sanctioned, but then that’s why we’re here, to seek out the corruptors and put a stop to them.

Hermione gasps, rising and pacing the room. 

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry asks, coming closer for the first time.

"He was there, Percy, the night Charlie came home to the burrow. Do you remember when we talked about Draco next to the floo, just before I left? It was the same night Blaise broke through my wards and threatened Draco in my flat." She fluffed her hair up as she paced, "I saw him as I threw the floo powder, but I got so caught up in what had happened later with Draco, I forgot I saw him listening in on our conversation." 

"This is preposterous! You cannot visit the Weasleys when you’re in danger from him!" Lucius pronounced loudly.

"You're telling me!" Hermione agreed in return, rushing towards him like she was about to gather him in a hug, but then pausing and holding out her hand, "Thank you Lucius." He took her hand and shook as she leaned up on tip toes to kiss his cheek. My father looked so taken aback I burst out laughing, followed by Potter and eventually my father too. Times really have changed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I'm going to be away on holiday for the next week, so I've decided to post 2 chapters today. I leave at an unearthly hour tomorrow morning. Your next update will be on August 22nd, unless I get over excited and post another chapter when I return next Friday.   
> Thank you as always for your lovely reviews.  
> The awesome badwolfjedi is my lovely beta (@bwj-dramione-blog over on tumblr)  
> *** This chapter will be a little angsty at the end, so please heed the trigger warning I will note before that part begins, there is also a healthy dose of smut too ;) ***

 

**Draco**

I don’t know what to think about any of today’s events. Seeing my father was the hardest part, knowing I could’ve so easily been the raggedy, shell of a man inside that cell. I hugged him before I left, surprised he even allowed it or that I wanted it, but I knew he’d missed me, and he showed affection like he had before I went to Hogwarts. He made me eat my words by the strangely affable way he spoke with my—I want to call her my girlfriend—but that’s up to her to decide, so I’ll just call her that in my head for now.

I think back to the anxiety attack I experienced when Hermione asked me to consider visiting him. I’d built him into some kind of monster in my mind because of everything he put us through, but seeing him once more, human, frail, and happy to converse with someone he would’ve peered down his nose at, or even killed, before the war, helped me believe there is still some good in him.

I know he has to pay his dues, but I wonder if he really deserves to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life, or whether he can be rehabilitated in some way and sent back to my mother, who I know will be pining for him, regardless of what he’s done. I wish it were possible, but my father killed people, muggles like my Hermione and for that he doesn’t deserve redemption. My stomach jolts as I’m reminded of how it could so easily have been me if I’d just used that unforgivable on Dumbledore. I suppose the only one to ask is Hermione, or perhaps Potter. Both have this ingrained sense of fairness I find hard to comprehend; they search for the smallest amount of goodness in someone and I thank Merlin for it. For me, it’s hard to separate right from wrong in the truest sense, my upbringing made it all so easy to do things that ventured into the greyest of areas between the two, and I know it’s something I will probably work on for the rest of my life. If I’m with Hermione, life will never be the same again, I know that, but then, would I want it to be? No. Not now I have a life with her within my grasp. I want marriage, kids, a good job, all the things denied to me when I made the decision to take the mark. I didn’t have a choice really, I’m kidding myself that I did, but there is always a choice, or so Hermione might say. I could’ve approached the Order and asked for sanctuary, or to fight alongside them, but I didn’t, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. All I know is that I no longer want to be the coward, I want to be worthy of Hermione, to stand by her and become an honourable man who deserves respect in our society for being good. I just need to work out how, because right now she will go through hell if our relationship becomes public and I don’t want that for her, it’s not fair to expect it of her. I think the one saving grace of this past year is proof that people can and do like me for myself, I got on well with the muggle misfit crew and garnered some respect from them, which I reciprocated, although, now I’ve found out about Chris I’m not quite sure whether he liked me because he was there to keep an eye on me or whether he’s a true friend. He feels like a friend, so perhaps that’s a thought for another time. I’ve learned that not being an utter git to people makes life run a lot smoother.

I think Hermione and I have made up and are on good terms again after our row this morning, she certainly allowed me to take her in my arms and she told me she wants to try being with me. I actually thought I might swoon like an utter wanker at her words. I should be used to it, as this woman has been the only light in my life since I was eleven, so it shouldn’t be a surprise her wanting me would make my legs go to jelly. She said she wanted to try to resolve all that’s gone before and I love her all the more for it, if that were possible. I still wonder what she sees when she looks at me, but I think she’s managed to get past what happened between us at school to a degree, we just haven’t talked about it in depth, there hasn’t been the right moment. It’s important those words are said, I need her to know how desperately sorry I was about what happened at the Manor, and even the fact I was with those two goons in the Room of Requirement and had to be rescued like a damsel by the heroic Potter commands an apology as I know I put their lives in danger. Fuck, if my life hadn’t already been excruciating up until that point, the boy I hated back then was my saviour, how sodding embarrassing. I have to admit, begrudging respect has morphed into a higher esteem for Potter over the past few days, and I wonder if I’d spent less time loathing him for, well, nothing really apart from jealousy, he and I might’ve been friendlier at school. I say _might_ , as it was unlikely, but, hey, we’re all entitled to look back on the past with rose tinted glasses once in a while, its just not a luxury afforded to me very often.

Anyway, we’re back at Hermione’s flat because we’ve had to stop to reformulate our plans and discuss our next steps, but I can't wait for Potter to leave so I can show my woman how much I bloody love her. She's an enigma, and after what happened with my father, my belly clenches every time I look at her, not that it didn't before but now. I watch her smile and laugh, she lights up the room and my belly feels like a swarm of Cornish pixies are battering my insides. Things were serious for a while when we first arrived as we worked out some strategies, talked about what my father had said and tried to work out our next move, but then Hermione made us chicken risotto with garlic bread and we all shared a bottle of red, excited that we were on our way to figuring the whole mess out.

Full to the brim with risotto, my eyes half close as I sit back and relax while listening to her talk. She’s sipping on her wine while she talks to Harry, her eyes on mine and I watch as she curls her tongue to capture a stray ruby drop at the corner of her mouth. She glances up at me and I know it was fucking deliberate, she's toying with me, the little minx! I sip from my glass and place it on the table before me, reaching out to circle the rim with my forefinger, clinking the glass occasionally with the only reminder of my past or who I am, my insignia ring. I'm not listening anymore because they're talking about Weasley and his upcoming nuptials. I sigh, as its likely she’ll be going alone to that particular event, it’s only a few months away and I can’t imagine us being in a position to tell him about us as a couple, let alone be on speaking terms agreeable enough for me to garner an invite as her plus one. The realisation I want that with her, to endure whatever any of the other guests might throw at me, makes me shake my head with a smile.

My eyes follow her hand as she clutches her neck and settles her jaw onto her alternate shoulder, her eyes dancing as she laughs about something Harry says, the pair of them dissolving into giggles. I suppose there might’ve been a time when I was jealous of her and Potter, of how close they are, but now I know they’re nothing more than friends and it’s another part of her life I’ll need to accept if I’m to be with her.

I try to forget my internal monologue and begin to watch her in earnest, sucking in a breath at a beaming smile she directs at me with a questioning raised eyebrow, she’s asking if I’m okay and I nod. The wine and firelight give’s her an ethereal glow. Of course, it might be fuzziness caused by the alcohol, but I think it's her internal magic, a delightful golden tinge that surrounds a witch when she's happy. Seeing her pleasure makes me ecstatic, Godrick, I'm such a desperate prick, but if there was a room full of stunning women here, I'd see her first, without even looking at any of them. I bite back a smile as I observe her throw her head back as she hoots with laughter. I'm totally lost to her and I know it. She reaches down to caress her ankle, her feet are encased in the sexy black high heels she put on for work this morning, not expecting such a day as we had. She's cackling with laughter once more and my eyes follow her fingertips as they travel slowly over the smooth skin of her knee. She crosses her legs, changing her mind and uncrossing them, and I’m a gonner, I know she’s flirting furtively with me.

She looks up, finding her glass empty, and I tap my forefinger on the edge of my glass. If that's not an indication of impatience, I don't know what is.

"Err, Harry, I didn't realise how late it's got, do you want to stay? We'll need an early start; you can take the guest room?" She begins.

"I love you, Hermione, but seeing that your guest room is Draco’s room, I gather from your inordinately obvious hardcore flirtation this evening that you'll be sleeping together. So, it's probably best if I leave you to it, don't you agree?" Harry chortles. 

"No! That's not it at all!" She exclaims, blushing and glancing at me. I smirk, bloody hell, I can't control myself, you’ve got to love Potter for his detective skills.

"Hermione,” He holds up his flatware and waves it at us, “I really want no reason to poke my eyes out with this fork, and Merlin’s saggy balls, if I heard anything between you and Malfoy, I think I'd lose the will to live. Anyway, I might well choke on the pheromones in this bloody room if I stay any longer." He rises and takes a step towards the floo. "I'll be back first thing and, please, for the love of all that is magical, be dressed and ready and not shagging each-others brains out." Winking as he leaves, he chuckles, “Have fun kids.”

I stand watching him with my mouth open as it feels almost like he’s given us his blessing. As soon as he leaves, my eyes meet hers and I see within them the same desperation as I’m sure is in mine. I stride over and take her face in my palms, kissing her urgently and relishing in her moan as I thread my hands through her hair, my thumbs moving over her collarbone. “I’m really warming to the bloke, princess, but at one point I thought he’d never sodding leave.”

“Me neither. I Iove him dearly, but all I wanted all night was to straddle your lap and shag you senseless.” Her chest is rising and falling, her pupils dilated as she speaks like she’s trying to catch her breath.

“Well then, aren’t you a naughty little witch, having such dirty thoughts while taking to your best friend?” I murmur as I plant sweet kisses over her jawline.

“I think the leg thing was a step too far,” she admits, “Godrick, he must think we’re depraved.”

“The leg thing was delectable.” I nuzzle her nose with mine, before nipping her lower lip. Then I get that anxious feeling again, like a million tiny insects are crawling under my skin. I pull back, wondering whether this is the best thing for us to do after the day we’ve had. She might want to talk about it, and my conscience is pricking me. I’m walking this road to redemption and I don’t want to fuck this up. I want to make sure we’re not just seeking instant gratification, that’s she’s okay with all this. I cup her cheek, “Do you want—err— do you need to talk about today?” I think I may have just turned a corner, as I know I never would’ve thought of asking anything of the sort in the past. Her eyes are glazed as she reaches out to run a thumb over my lower lip. As soon as she touches me, my apprehension melts away.

“Are you joking? Now is not the time for talking, Draco, that’s for after, I believe they call it pillow talk.” She gives me a raunchy wink and any chivalrous thoughts are gone in a second.

A bolt of electricity shoots to my cock as she bites her lip and I suck her thumb into my mouth, rolling the tip of my tongue around the tip, suckling gently with light pressure.

“Oh,” She utters, “that feels—oh, god, you’re so hot.” Her pupils are amplified to the point I can barely see her iris and she lets out a tiny, endearing squeak from her throat as I nip the skin on the pad. I let it go with a plop and lift her hand to kiss her wrist.

“As are you, princess, I’ve been hard for you all evening.” It’s the truth, I’ve had to adjust my trousers several times, its only fair she knows that.

She blushes, the bloom in her cheeks spreading over her chest in the most delicious way. “You, um, y-you get hard without me touching you?” She drops her eyes to the floor, flushing with embarrassment.

I want her to stay like this forever, she’s bloody adorable and it almost seems a shame to transform her from this inexperienced witch and unleash the vixen I know is hidden inside her, the lioness I got a peek of last night when she opened herself up to me, caressing her nipples and asking me to cum on her belly as she let loose her own orgasm. It was a revelation, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it until my dying day. She was divine and the thought of her like that leaves me virtually speechless. I swallow deeply. “I get hard whenever you’re near me, if I get a whiff of your scent, if I see your eyes sparkle, sweet Salazar, when I saw you in this suit, with the tight, tight skirt,” I reach down and trail my hand from her knee, over the fabric of her inner thigh and back to her hip and learn closer to whisper in her ear, “All I wanted to do was rip it off you.” I watch her react by closing her eyes, and pursing her lips, “It made me want to drop to my knees—” I sink down and grasp her ankle. She places both palms on the table behind her, and I feel her foot flex as I lathe the inside of her calf with my tongue. I reach up with my free hand and push her skirt higher, until it reaches her upper thighs. “To use my tongue to taste the length of your leg, dipping my tongue behind your knee,” I show her as I talk, “kissing every part of your upper thighs.” I carefully place her foot on the floor and push her skirt up over her hips. “I was hoping you’d be wearing something sexy, like these black lacy knickers, so I could do this.” I take both hands and rip them off her.

…………….

**Hermione**

Holy crap! I’m not sure I have the heart to complain that he’s ruined my best pair of knickers, because his thumbs are at the apex of my thighs and I know I’m almost dripping for him, it’s sort of embarrassing but also so very erotic. My body is buzzing with need, such as I’ve never experienced. Last night was wow, but the way he’s making me feel tonight far surpasses it, I feel like he’s taken a match and set fire to my body. My vision blurs as I feel his fingers part me, his tongue on my clit sending me to dizzying heights. “I—I-I—Draco!” I hear myself cry out, my body turning liquid as I lay back over the table, my arms stretched above my head. I feel my nipples graze against the silky fabric of my blouse, I palm them, desperate for them to be freed.

“Did you say something, princess?”

He stops and I know he’s teasing me, his voice making me hotter and so very excited. I reach down towards his head, clasping a handful of blonde hair, desperate for him to continue to assault my throbbing pussy with his tongue. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

He smirks and I know being with him like this is going to kill me, “As you wish, your majesty.” He murmurs, continuing with vigour.

Oh, my, fucking, god! It’s all I can think as he uses his fingers on me, his mouth suckling my bud, sending wave after wave of pure pleasure shooting to every part of my body. “Oh, Godrik, Jesus Christ and fucking Circe! Please don’t, stop—d-don’t, ever stop!”

The feel of him just send me into oblivion and then, bloody hell, then, he uses his thumb to press against a place I never thought would give such pleasure, swirling and gently pushing against the flower of my bum. I lift my hips off the table, pushing into him and he splays his free hand over my belly, stilling me as he carries on his offensive. My heart stutters, and I gasp for breath as I drift momentarily, feeling like I’ve shed my skin and the essence of me is floating above, before I crash back down to earth, my legs trembling and throwing my head back, hanging onto the edge of the table for dear life, “Ohmyfucking!—fucking—! G-god!” And then I’m gone, sparks of magic coursing from my fingertips as I soar, plates and glasses crashing to the floor from the table.

………………..

**Draco**

That was amazing! Fuck, the first time I did this to her was something, but this—this was breath taking, and I barely stopped myself from shooting my load in my pants, like a Hogwarts first year, with swift a pinch to the base of my dick. I have to admit that the Venus Butterfly technique is a winner as she almost hit the roof. I was right about her, although in reverse, I thought she liked the thought of being with a bad boy but actually, I think it was me who enjoyed being the bad boy brought to his knees to worship this goddess and she just loves the new experiences.

I’m so hard, I don’t think I can wait long to feel myself inside her. She’s still dazed and her pussy is delectably swollen. When I rise, her arms are spread over the dining table like she's offering herself up to some ancient magical god. I pull her hips to the edge, ripping open her blouse, my lips suckling on her belly, my hands on her hips and her back arched so her skin is taut. I know it'll leave marks, but it’ll feel like she's mine if I can leave some evidence that I've taken her and claimed her in some way. Testosterone is ruling my head as I clasp her throat gently and nudge her entrance with my cock. "Tell me what you want, princess." I growl. There's something deep and primal within me that will never truly bow to anyone unless they beg, something I try to push away but still races through my veins, ignited by her surrender to me.

"I-I want you." She whimpers, her legs closing around my hips, pulling me closer, "I want you, Draco." 

She avoids my eyes and I slide in slightly, breaching her entrance, "My cocks inside you, what else do you want me to do?" 

"Take this off and fuck me!" She grasps at my t-shirt and rips at the collar, "take it off, let me see you!" Demanding little chit, isn’t she?

She's palming her tits, pushing up her bra and I almost choke as she squeezes her taut nipple, wriggling her hips as she tries to draw me further inside her. I pull my shirt over my head and throw it to the side, then move to grasp hold of her bra, and blouse, pulling them over her head in one swift move, before latching my mouth on the peak of a rosy nipple. Dazed as I am, I register I’m likely to be in big trouble for ripping her clothes off in such a devil may care way, but then I never said I was any less Slytherin after my recent experiences. Hermione Granger is giving me the gift of herself and she is magnificent, it just feels so easy for us to succumb to each other like this.

Her hands are everywhere, scratching the tattoos on my back and upper arms, as I take slow, barely measured pumps inside her, I’m trying but my control is slipping and the need to fuck her brains out is driving me crazy.

“Draco, harder, I need you to fuck me harder.” She cries.

I nip at her lips before plundering her mouth with my tongue, clasping her arse in both hands and building an identical rhythm to my cock as it slides in and out of her slick warmth. I’m only happy to comply with fucking her harder as I feel her begin to flutter around my cock. I don’t think it’s possible to describe the feeling, other than exquisite. “That’s it princess, cum around me, I want to feel every part of you.” I barely gasp out, sweat dampening my hair to my head. My hands are on her hips as I piledrive her, bottoming out every time as I feel her climax ebb and flow towards its pinnacle. I don’t want this to end so soon, but the tell-tale sign of my impending orgasm races up my spine, tightening my balls as she screams my name. She clutches my neck and pulls me towards her, swallowing my moan as I erupt inside her.

I remove my mouth from hers, gasping for breath. “Too quick, it was too—q-quick, I wanted more but you’re such a turn on, I-I—” I can’t finish my sentence as my brain’s filled with a lust filled fog, I only know I want more, I want to be inside her forever and never let her go. She’s perfect, “So fucking perfect.” I utter, my body bowed, my hands still gripping her hips as I place my slick forehead in the valley of her breasts and there’s only the sound of our rapid panting filling the room.

She plays with my hair as our breathing slows. “I don’t know what you wanted, but I thought that was amazing.” Her chest shakes as she laughs.

I lift my head and give her a dozy grin. My legs feel ready to give out, but I lift her and wrap her legs around me.

“Draco!” She yips as I carry her to bed.

“Oh,” I nip at her earlobe, “Does Miss Granger have an objection to being taken to bed and ravished until she can no longer walk?”

I hear her tinkling laugh before she kisses me fervently and I can barely see where I’m going.

“I thought not.” I smirk and she slaps lightly at my chest, continuing to giggle delightfully.

……………

**Hermione**

When anyone tells you about sex, they describe it as the most amazing thing you could ever do, and it is, it really is, but they never describe what it’s like to lay in someone’s arms like this, how warm and safely cocooned you feel in the afterglow. Draco is on his back, his legs sprawled out, snoring gently with a blissful grin on his face. I’m snuggled under one of his arms, drawing lazy circles over his belly and looking closely at the tattoos he has. I can’t help but investigate his dark mark, hidden amongst the ingredients for Amortentia, surrounded in moon stones, mint leaves and rose petals, and reach out to trail my forefinger over the familiar skull motif. Its faded, its lines not so black as they once seemed in the height of the war when I battled men twice my size who were using the unforgivables. Now, it’s just a tattoo, and I expected to have to face it at some point when I met Draco again.

One of the first things I thought when I found out it was him that night in my flat was, ‘how will I keep my own scar out of sight?’ and ‘will I see his mark?’ so, yep, I was prepared for that. I think that was why I was so upset when I saw the tattoo of my face on his back, because I wasn’t prepared for it at all, and the sight of it shocked me to the core. I’ve had time to think about it and it’s not so bad and Draco didn’t seem to set out to hurt me by having it inked permanently onto his skin. He told me he never expected he would ever get so close to me that I would see it. I haven’t yet had the chance to look at it properly, and right now he’s passed out on his back, so I’ve lost the opportunity to take my time while he’s asleep. Even if I used a time turner to go back in time and allow things to change things between us, I still could never imagine him like this. In fact, I couldn’t imagine him laying by my side at all if I was still in school, it just never would’ve happened, however much Draco tries to convince me he’s been in love with me since then. Somehow, seeing him so relaxed and carefree is the reverse of the boy I once knew, like we’re living in an alternate universe and we’re different people altogether.

“You’re staring at me, aren’t you?” He murmurs, his eyes closed.

I want to feel embarrassed because I’ve been caught, but actually, following everything we’ve just done together, it’s the furthest thing on my mind. With Gryffindor courage I reply meekly, “Yes, but I won’t tell you how beautiful you are when you’re asleep, because your big head will get bigger.”

He opens an eye, stretches and grins, “So, what you’re saying is, I’m gorgeous, you don’t want to tell me, but you just have anyway?”

“Maybe?” I trace my fingers over the fine blonde hairs on his chest.

“Hermione, love, you do talk some utter shite, bearing in mind you have such a big brain.”

I find myself giggling again. I never thought of myself as a girl who would giggle, but since we’ve got closer, it’s all I seem to do. Ghah, get a grip, Hermione! I tell myself, before giggling again. It’s a lost cause.

“What’s going on in that noggin of yours? Sounds like you’re close to hysteria.” He chuckles.

“I’ll admit, I was looking at your tattoos and wondering why you chose them.” I lean down and kiss his chest.

He looks down at them, frowning. “Um, well, these one’s,” he points to the scars where Harry’s Sectumsepmra curse hit him, “I wanted them to look like they were bleeding to remind me to stay on my toes in a fight, err, you know, because Potter hit me with that spell when I least expected it.”

I nod, I get that, and I sigh deeply as it was probably the most mindlessly stupid thing Harry ever did, and even though we hated Malfoy then, it was a dark curse he should never have cast. “I can guess why you had these.” I continue, pointing to the tattooed Slytherin house crest on his upper arm and the wording beneath, Si vis pacem, para bellum.

“Yeah, that means ‘If you wish for peace, prepare for war’ in Latin.”

I feel his eyes on me as I trail my fingertips to some others, one of a Quidditch stadium with rings, then I find the pad of my thumb resting on the Malfoy crest and the wording underneath. “I thought the Malfoy crest translated as ‘Purity will always conquer?’ My Latin’s a bit rusty, but I think ‘Patientia, Acceptatio et Intellectus’, means Endurance, acceptance and understanding.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles. “This is what I want it to be from now on. You know, once I’m back in the wizarding world, regardless of whatever traditions I break, I will change the Malfoy family motto from that pureblood, prejudiced crap and no one will stop me, as the only living heir.”

I learn forward and kiss the tattoo, which lies over his heart. “That sounds perfect.”

He’s giving me a tender look, as if he’s happy I’m pleased with his choice. “And this one? Oh my god!” I notice there’s another hidden one of me, on the side of his torso, it’s of a small curly haired girl, riding a dragon which is bursting out of the dome at the top of Gringotts.

He purses his lips, “Um, well, I was hoping you’d like it, but after your reaction to the larger one, I thought it prudent not to mention it wasn’t the only one I had. There was a picture in the Prophet of your escape, and there was no way I was going to have Potter and the Weasel inked on my skin forever, so it’s just you. I knew it was you who must’ve thought up such an astonishing yet hairbrained scheme, tell me I’m not wrong.”

I snigger and shake my head, “Of course it was me, we were trapped and that poor dragon—Oh Merlin, I could never have left such a majestic creature chained up in the dark and tortured by the goblins, it was pitiful, I released it and jumped on its back first—”

“I bloody knew it was you!” He grabs me by the face and kisses me soundly.

I smile and carry on with the story, “—and when it took flight, holy crap, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced and the sound it made, because it was finally free—” I find Draco brushing away the tears rolling down my face. I recover after a moment, “I’m afraid of flying, but this seemed different somehow and I was so glad to get out of there, I just clung on and enjoyed it. It wasn’t so nice when we had to jump into the lake, but knowing we’d destroyed another Horcrux, well, it felt good.” I’m feeling breathless as I remember those times I’ve worked hard to blot out, to try to get on with my life and forget how many times I almost died, how many times Harry, Ron and I, almost died.

Draco is silent, all I can hear is his breath coming rapidly, and I wonder whether this is the best conversation to have when we were relaxed and enjoying being with each other like this. I know these conversations must be had at some point to enable us to be wholly truthful with each other, but I’m so happy right now I just want to revel in it.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” I lay my head on his chest and hear his heart racing, I can feel him trying to keep his breath under control.

“He went crazy that day.” Draco eventually begins, his face pale as I lift my hand up to cup his chin.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to, there’ll be other times.”

“No. You don’t understand, I want to tell you, I want us to be able to talk about these things, I—I need to talk, because I’ve never told anyone what happened to me and I don’t want to live my life treading on eggshells with you, worried about what we should and shouldn’t say for fear of upsetting each other.” He shuffles over so he’s on his side and we’re both laying opposite each other with our fingers entwined. “I want this with you, I want you to know everything about me.”

“I know a lot already; I was at your trial.”

“Hermione, that barely covered half of it, they were the crimes I was tried for, not the full story, only enough of it to get me acquitted. I need you to tell me if this is too much right now and we’ll find another time.”

Regardless of the bad timing, I needed Draco to know he could trust me and talk to me about anything, so I agreed. “I’ll tell you if it gets too much.” I squeeze his hand tightly and move to brush a stray hair from his eyes.

“That night he was worse than ever. I suffered through the Crutiatus on several occasions, usually when something didn’t go his way. The first time was after I failed him by not killing Dumbledore. Snape told the Dark Lord he didn’t give me the chance, but that didn’t cut it, and the Dark Lord told me I was better off dead, I was useless, and he was only giving me mercy because the act had been carried out in my stead. His ‘mercy’ the first night was a crutiatus on behalf Snape and each of my parents on me. Each time a Horcrux was destroyed, he spent the evening taking it out on anyone who so much as looked his way and we were also punished for not looking at him when he spoke, he was demented and if we didn’t receive the Crutiatus, we had to give it. He made me torture muggleborns—” He stopped, and a choking cry came from his throat, so piteous I wanted to grab him and make him stop, but I just caressed his brow and re-laced our fingers together, gripping him tightly until he calmed. “He threatened my mother daily, had Bellatrix debase her by having her serve food to the Dark Lord, rather than the elves. There were only a few left by then as Aunt Bella’s favourite pastime was torturing them if they didn’t serve the food to her satisfaction. She made my mother get on her knees and offer the food above her head like a slave. Hermione I—”

“We can stop, we can stop this if you want to, there’s no pressure to do this right now.” I pull him closer and into my arms, his head on my breast. I know I went through hell in his house, but I also need to know why it happened, I already know it’s not because he wanted it to happen. He’s twitching as if he remembers the curses and I know how that feels, having been through it myself, but I’ve had my friends to talk to and he’s had no-one, I can’t imagine how agonizing that’s been for him.

“I did what I had to survive and protect my family. I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by taking the mark. Regret is such a tiny word, but you live with it forever, it never goes away, it just lies dormant until you have a second’s happiness and then it reaches up and chokes you from the inside.”

“You did what you had to do to stay alive.” I whisper, afraid if I say more he’ll stop, and he needs to get this out, I know he does.

“Then there was you,” he begins, his voice gravelled like the words are like razorblades in his throat, “I think I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the snatchers bring you to the Manor. I thought, Hermione Granger would never get caught by those fucking moronic reprobates, she’s too intelligent to even be where they were.” He blurts. “But there you were with those two idiots who I wanted to punch the shit out of for allowing the one person who should’ve been kept safe to be captured.”

 

*****Trigger Warning re: Panic Attack*****

 

“Draco, it wasn’t like that, we’d been careful, so careful, we were just unlucky that day.”

“No! They should’ve kept you somewhere safe! They should’ve made you stay with the Order in a safe house! You should never have been there at all!”

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair, barely listening to me, I can already see he’s inside his head and I try to assuage his guilt to keep him calm. “Draco, you know nobody could’ve stopped me from helping my friends, you must know that?”

“It’s why I punched Potter so hard that night he came to your flat and pretty much called you a slag, he deserved it for saying that alone, but for leading you into danger back then, I was livid and I’ve never been able to forget it.”

“They’re my friends, I was never going to let them go off alone and get themselves into trouble.” I advocate on their behalf.

“But they weren’t there! They didn’t see! They only heard your cries and screams. I watched it! I bloody watched it and I couldn’t do a thing—fuck! I could do nothing to help you. I wanted to kill my aunt and every other Death Eater in the house—” He was frantic, not sure what to do with his hands, clenching his fists as he launched out of the bed and paced the room, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide.

“Draco? Draco, come back to me, I’m here for you.” I plead.

“And my mother and father both stood there, like it was some kind of show! Some kind of performance to be proud of!”

“Draco, calm down—” I’m up on my feet, moving towards him, holding my hands out to grab him, but he ignored me, focussed on his ranting. “You know your mother had no choice.” I try again.

“That unhinged, sociopathic bitch, took the knife and dared to touch you!” He’s avoiding me and stalking the room single mindedly, anger coursing through him.

“Draco! I got through it, Bellatrix marked me and it’s only scar, I’m not dead. That’s enough for now, we can talk about this another time.” I’m not concerned about what he’s describing, I’ve been over it enough in my own mind to come to some kind of resolution with myself regarding my torture, but I sense he is dangerously close to losing it.

He looks up at me, his eyes as hard as granite, then the lights go out, sparking in their sockets. I know his magic has spiralled out of control, much like a child who has not yet experienced a wand and has no control over what they do magically. Draco has been non-magical for a year, so it was bound to come to a head, it’s just a shame I didn’t realise it until now.

“Draco?” I whisper, sinking to my knees to find him curled up on the floor as I hear a sob, which turns into uncontrollable weeping. I take him into my arms and rock him gently, crying with him. “I’m alright now and we’ll get through this together, we’ll get through it, baby, I promise you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the previous chapter, you've got two chapters today and I'll post again on August 22nd.   
> Someone finds out about Draco and Hermione's relationship in this chapter, and let's say, he's not too happy about it.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

**Draco**

I wake with gritty eyes, and the night before slams back into me like a bludger to the gut. I totally lost it and sobbed in front of Hermione. I feel embarrassment course through my belly. She shouldn’t have to see me cry like that, it’s not, well, it’s not manly, is it? Not in the Malfoy family anyway. In the Malfoy family you are rid of any sign of mental weakness from a child. The only other whose seen me cry is my mother, and of course mothers dote on their son’s whether they’re weak or strong, so, it doesn’t count.

“I can see your mind going into overdrive and I’m going to tell you there’s no need.” She mutters, her sleepy face staring at me once more.

What is it with girls and watching men sleep? It's like some strange inbuilt need in them and I’ll never understand it. “You were watching me again,” I mutter. My throat sounds gravelled, like I’ve screamed myself hoarse. I know of course my actions weren’t that bad, but I’m not used to feeling wrung out after a large outpouring of emotion. Strangely I feel better, lighter, like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders now somebody knows my story. The ability to tell someone everything is a new concept to me, and I suppose it’s bound to be difficult at the beginning. I felt like once we began talking, I just couldn’t stop.

“Perhaps if you tried to look less like an angel when you sleep, I might not do it.”

The warmth in her sleepy cinnamon and burnt amber eyes has a soothing effect, and it feels like the bloody and open wounds which have marred my soul for so long might finally begin to heal following last night’s confessions. “Look, I’m sorry about last night, I was out of line, it won’t happen—”

The gorgeous woman beside me instantly gets to her knees, placing her hand over my heart. “Stop right there,” she chastises with a reassuring smile, “we’ll have none of that. All I need you to know is that now we have each other, there’s a circle of trust between us. Anything I tell you goes no further and I’m certainly never going to hurt you by telling anyone anything you tell me. I care about you, Draco, more than you know, and I want you to feel you can come to me with anything.” She’s leaning down and planting tiny kisses on my face. I feel her lashes flutter against my forehead as she kisses my eyes. “Do you feel alright?”

I lace my fingers through hers and bring them to my lips, kissing the knuckles on each hand. “Always, when I’m with you, princess.”

She’s leaning in, her lips a whisper away from mine when we hear the rush of the floo. She quickly pecks my lips and bounds out of bed. I can hear Harry clattering around the kitchen and his voice as Hermione runs out, apologising.

“I thought I told you pair to be ready. We haven’t got time for snogging and morning sex!”

I stand in the doorway, leaning against, “Potter, I have to admit you’ve grown on me, but I’m not sure you and I are quite at the point of snogging and morning sex just yet, of course I can’t speak for Hermione.” I smirk, raising an eyebrow at her. She almost chokes on the coffee Harry has passed her.

“Ha, bloody, ha. Just get your kit on, I’ve been assigned a partner and he’ll be here in five minutes. You’re not going to like it, and he’s going to like this,” he gesticulates to us both with one hand, “even less.”

Shit! There’s only one person who works in the Auror division who will kick off the most about Hermione and I being together. I walk back into the bedroom, turning on the shower on cold to wake me up for the inevitable showdown with fucking Weasley.

…………

**Hermione**

****“Harry! How did this happen? Why him? You know I love you both but having him on this case is going to be more trouble than its worth.”

“Obviously, that’s what Robards thinks. Now we know of his involvement, I think he’s trying to cover his back by throwing a spanner in the works. Its common knowledge that Ron and Malfoy hate each other, and I suppose most people think you and Ron had a massive break up because it was all over the tabloids. If it is as Zabini says, then the leader or instigator knows exactly what’s going on, he will already know you have Malfoy here. I think we need to move you and Malfoy to somewhere safer, I can’t take you to Grimmaud, they’d easily find you, so my suggestion is to move you to Malfoy Manor.”

“Harry no! I know I visited there, but I’m not sure I can stay there, sleep there. There has to be another way! What about my job?” Harry’s eyes are on me as I glance to the open bottle of wine on the kitchen counter and my hands are shaking with nerves. Oh, Merlin, am I really thinking about drinking at this time of the day?

“Look, we don’t have much time. They’ll come here next, I feel it in my bones, and when they do you can’t be here. If I send you to Mrs Figg’s then there’s only you, Hermione, to protect all four of you, but I if I can get you both inside the manor on Ron’s shift this morning, then I take over tonight. Come on, Hermione, it’s the ideal time to get you in and Ron may have his opinions, but I know he’d never allow anything to happen to you. Once you’re there, you can hide in one of the empty wings. Aurors don’t check the house unless there is a reason to. We guard the entrance and prevent anyone entering or leaving via the floo. As long as you stay out of sight, nobody will find out. It’s called hiding in plain sight, surely you remember that from when we were on the run?” Harry says gently, taking my trembling hands in his. “I would never do anything to hurt you, another Malfoy signature within the Manor won’t be noticed, it won’t upset the order of things and neither will you with your Ministry clearance.”

“I-I could owl in sick for the rest of the week, I could say I have the flu.” I feel the tremor in my voice.

“Great, you send an owl, I’ll use today to find out what I can and then we’ll talk at the manor tonight. Go get dressed, and wear dark clothing, something you won’t be seen in, we don’t know who we’ll come across on our way there.”

My belly flutters as I chew on my lip. I want to say no, but I know I don’t have much of a choice here.

“Potter, you’d better be right about this, because we’re dragging my mother into this now and I won’t have her hurt.” Draco is standing in the doorway, dressed in his joggers and black hoodie, he must’ve overheard our conversation and decided to dress appropriately.

I rush past him to shower, grabbing black jeans and a black hooded rain jacket from the back of my closet, along with my most comfortable combat boots. I leave them to talk with a feeling of dread in my stomach. Ron will not be happy.

………………………..

**Draco**

The floo comes to life, just as Potter and I are discussing theories and logistics. I knew it would happen, but I still have to bite back anger in my throat that we’ve been put in this position with no warning. I can’t say I’m much in the mood for a fist fight this morning, but if needs must. I lean nonchalantly against the kitchen counter and sip my coffee.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, mate, Tracey—” Ron begins to speak to Harry but clocks me and his face changes from quite jovial to screwed up with rage. “What in Gorgon’s curly barnet, is this lousy, Death Eater, scum doing in Hermione’s flat?” He is striding towards me with his wand held high, and I place my coffee gently on the side, ready for him.

He reaches me and Harry pulls him back by the collar. “It’s a long story Ron, and we don’t have time for you to get into it with Malfoy. Hermione’s in danger—”

“Well, of course she is with this git here! How could you even let him past her wards!” He starts to look for Hermione, “Hermione! Where the bloody hell are you, come out here and explain yourself, right now!”

“Weasley, I’d thank you for not shrieking like a demented mountain troll while my girlfriend’s getting dressed.” I know, I know, but this is far too good an opportunity to let go without winding him up and anyway, it’s better to get his nonsense out of the way when we have a busy day ahead of us.

Weasley’s face seems to have gone a strange shade of puce, he also doesn’t seem to be breathing and even I’m concerned the bloke might hyperventilate and die on us, leaving all sorts of paperwork for Harry we don’t have time for.

“Breathe Ron!” Harry claps him on the back and he barks out a strange, whooping cough.

“I see this one’s professional to a fault.” I mock.

Ron points his wand at me again, “So you think I’m unprofessional? I’m a sodding model of professionalism, Malfoy, seeing as I haven’t thrown you out the bloody window for shagging the girl you hurt all through school and who was tortured in your house! Oh, I can be professional, Malfoy, but just you wait until I’m off duty!” He glowers.

Hermione enters the room and takes a look at the scene. “Ah, so I see you’ve told him then?” She scolds me with her eyes, but she must know I couldn’t let the chance to goad Weasley go. Come on, I haven’t changed that much.

She gets him a glass of water and corrals him to the sofa. “Ronald, this is something you need to deal with. We have far more pressing matters to attend to and we need your mind on the job.” She pats his shoulder.

“But him, Hermione! Why did it have to be him?” Weasley pouts, looking like he might cry.

“I know it’s been a shock Ron—” Harry begins, interrupted by Ron’s wailing screech of torment.

“Grrraahhh! Why did it have to be that foul git? I’d rather you married me, that we spend a lifetime being friends, than you went with _him_!”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione’s on her feet, sounding somewhat like that howler he received from his mother in second year. Oh, this is going to be good. I purse my lips to hold back laughter. Harry eyes me and shakes his head, clearly feeling the same.

“How dare you suggest we should marry when we don’t want each other like that! How do you think Tracey would feel, knowing you’ve spoken something like that out loud when you’re about to be married?” Hermione’s has one hand on her hip and the other wagging a finger in his face. “Anyway, who said I ever wanted to marry you? Get this through your thick skull, Ronald, I love Draco and he loves me, and nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to stop us being together, so you’d better learn to live with that or I’ll never see you again!”

Did I bloody hear right? Did she just say—? I stride over to her, spin her around and into my arms and snog her senseless.

“Nooo! But Hermione, why the ferret? Harry, tell her! Tell them to stop!” Ron is whining and neither of us are listening. Harry has moved to his side as Ron is almost crying tears of frustration.

All I can see is her, like suddenly we’re inside our own protective bubble, with the room spinning around us.

We break the kiss and I lean my forehead against hers. “Did you mean it?” I move her hair aside and whisper in her ear.

Her breath is coming fast as she throws her arms around me, “Yes I meant it, I meant every word.” She whoops as I swing her around in my arms.

Ron grunts and strides angrily over to the kitchen, staring at us all with malevolent eyes.

“That went well,” Harry smirks, patting me on the back like an old friend. I have to be thankful for Potter, it seems I’ve finally realised he isn’t that bad after all and I kind of hope he feels the same about me.

“Right then!” Harry claps his hands before rubbing his palms together. “Time for today’s briefing.” Ron scowls but moves closer, taking a deep breath and looking only slightly less enraged. Thank fuck he realises he’s on the job after his little meltdown. With Hermione carefully tucked under my arm, I grin as I listen.

…………………

**Hermione**

I hate to say it, but Ron had it coming to him, he was being unreasonable, and Harry himself knows the telling off he got from me when he tried the same tack. It’s funny how Harry seems to have accepted us so easily, even joking with Draco about it this morning. But Ron, ugh, I could throttle him for making such a scene before I’ve had my morning coffee.

In a way I’m thankful he made me blurt out what I’d been thinking since last night, or maybe before. While Draco was in pieces over what happened to me, I came to the realisation I love him, that a small part of me had always had a thing for him.  Us coming together like this had smashed through this kind of wall we’d built between us because of who we are. Each of us knew we would create the worst kind of trouble if we’d ever thought seriously about being together at school, so I suppose we just snarked at each other and Draco bullied me. Look, I’m not so stupid as to realise that wasn’t the case, nor am I silly enough to believe it was right that he picked on me in that way. I am a woman and I know the boundaries which shouldn’t be crossed, and he was a nasty little sod at times. Our relationship now is not because of the past, we’re together because I trust him to be somebody better and because I know he wants to be and is capable of it. I can’t blame Ron for sticking up for me, he and Harry both felt the powerlessness of not retaliating when the Slytherin crowd were out for my blood, it didn’t mean we didn’t want revenge, it just meant we had better or more important things to do, or maybe we were just better than them. So, I kiss Draco’s cheek and I head to the kitchen, whipping up bacon rolls for us all, using magic for speed, along with another large pot of coffee.

I listen as Harry tells us what happened at Zabini Manor and Ron looks up gratefully when I hand him a plate stacked with rolls. I reach out and touch his cheek tenderly and he shakes his head glumly. He understands, and I know I’ll talk to him about it again, when things aren’t so urgent. He has Tracey now, and things aren’t like they used to be, as I explained to Harry, we have the opportunity to lead our own lives and this is my path, I hope Draco is my happily ever after. Whatever happens, I know my boys are there for me.

“Mrs Zabini was found behind the wall, severely dehydrated but otherwise fine. Blaise and his mother are under protection by Aurors I trust in St Mungo’s and we have curse breakers working with him to try their best with the unbreakable vow he made.”

“That’s a relief, I really hope he hasn’t got himself in so deep he’ll end up in Azkaban.” Draco said, “He’s become an egotistical twat, he always was, but he was never evil.”

“Huh, he was in good company.” Ron spoke through a mouthful of bacon sarnie and thankfully Draco shrugged but didn’t retaliate.

Harry continued. “This must remain between us.” He peered at us all over his glasses, before looking back at the floo and dropping his voice. “I’ve approached the Head of the Unspeakables Department. I saw him this morning. From my training, I gathered that they aren’t beholden to the Minister for Magic or the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and have on occasion acted like Internal affairs when investigations have been required in the past. We can’t be sure Kingsley isn’t involved and I felt it necessary to put my trust in them. Of course, we’ll probably know nothing about any inquiry they perform, but this person, I’m sorry I can’t say who, was alarmed when I told them what I knew. Hermione, I think we’d say they’re a little like MI6 in the muggle world.”

I nod, yeah, that’s an adequate description. “James Bond.” I grin.

“Who the bloody hell is James Bond?” Ron asks, but I hush him.

“I told him everything—” Harry looks a little sheepish, even though I know it was for the best.

“Potter, that’s dangerous!” Draco interrupted, pulling me close again. I wrap my arms around his waist. I know he’s worried, but I trust Harry to do the right thing. I can’t expect Draco to put his life in Harry’s hands without question, but I know Harry, and he would never knowingly put any of us in jeopardy.

“Dangerous but necessary, Malfoy. Their people go through rigorous checks before they’re employed, their families too, their whole lives are called into question and monitored. If we can trust anyone, it’s them.”

“I don’t trust anyone right now, apart from you Potter.” Draco affirms, then he nods at Ron. “Does he know—about?”

“Not yet.” Harry answers and drops to sit beside Ron. “Look mate, there’s no easy way to tell you this. Malfoy isn’t just here because he’s seeing Hermione—”

I watch Ron’s horror as he’s filled in on the situation and I wait for him to lose the plot when he finds out the full story.

“Then we interviewed someone who told us Robards was involved,” Harry said carefully, “I know you thought all Death Eaters deserved the kiss,” Ron has the decency to look a little ashamed as he glances up at Draco, “but the fact is, we’ve been told Percy might be involved.”

Ron stood and flung the empty plate in his hands onto the floor. “No! Harry, you can’t be serious? There is no way! Yeah, he holds those views, but then I bloody did too. We said it because we’d lost Fred and we were angry. I’m not sure I feel that way now, but he wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do that to mum and dad, they’d be devastated! Dad’s prided himself on putting aside all prejudices against anyone cleared in the war, he’s even been working with those in Azkaban to make the conditions better for the prisoners and try to help rehabilitate those who stand a chance of getting out some day!”

“Ron, I’m sorry but it’s true.” I move to rub his arm.

“Who was it? Who said it was Percy?” He snarls.

Everyone looks at each other, we know telling him it was Lucius Malfoy is the one thing we can’t say while he’s like this. There is only one way to get around this, I have to say it was me and I do it without hesitation. “Ron, Percy was spying on us the night I left the Burrow and he heard that I was seeing Draco. Harry and I were whispering, but I saw him around the corner when I left. He knew, Ron.”

“Hang on a minute,” Ron looks down but up again swiftly, “but that doesn’t explain why you think Robards is involved?”

I glance at Draco and then Harry. Ron isn’t always so quick witted, but it would have to be now that he is so quick to catch on, wouldn’t it?

“Just tell him, Potter, he’ll either believe us or he won’t.” Draco says, and I can hear the hint of apprehension in his voice.

“Alright, Hermione saw Percy that night, but we also had it confirmed by Lucius Malfoy.”

“You, fucking, prick!” I didn’t have time to react before Ron’s fist headed towards Draco.

…………………………….

**Draco**

“Tell them! Tell them your father’s a lying piece of shit!” Ron yells, as he punches me and I fall back on the sofa before I have a chance to retaliate. Potter was right, Weasley is a far better brawler than him.

“Incarcerous!” Hermione shouts and ropes wind around Ron, binding him. “I will not have fighting in my house! I’m sick of it! You all need to find a better way to resolve your differences and not scrap like children!”

“Oh, come on, Malfoy deserves it! It’s him, don’t you see? He’s trying to pull the wool over your eyes, along with his father!” Ron struggles as he tries to escape the binds.

“No, Ronald, that is not what’s happening here! I spoke with Lucius myself; he didn’t know anything until we asked him about what happened before he was taken to Azkaban, he had no idea why we were there, he offered up the information, the names, himself before we asked. Now, please, let me release you and let’s talk like adults. We need you Ron. We need you to help us, to understand, and we would never accuse Percy if we had no reason to do so. I love your parents dearly and I would never do this to them without justification.”

Ron stops struggling and nods, sighing deeply. It’s not an apology but his face is a little meeker than it was moments ago. “Inverso.” She murmurs and I watch him slump back onto the sofa once the spell is reversed.

“Hermione, you can be a right bitch sometimes.” Ron mutters, rubbing the welts on his arms. “But alright, I believe you, and Malfoy for what it’s worth, if they believe you, then so do I.”

Wonders will never cease! I should’ve known Weasley would be as big, bloody, hearted as Potter under that bravado of his, that and he trusts his friends with his life.

………….

**Hermione**

Ron drinks his coffee in one big slurp, his hand shaking slightly as he looks up at me and then Harry. “What now?”

Harry looks uncomfortable but turns his attention back to the task in hand. “Now I return to Azkaban, I have Death Eaters to interview, and I want to revisit Lucius to get his signed and sworn statement. The authorities can use Veritaserum to check the authenticity of their statements later on. I know Travers wasn’t given the kiss, nor were Mulciber or McNair and their trials were all on the same day.”

“Potter, this could be career suicide. If no one from your office knows you’re there and you go anyway, you could end up losing everything.” Draco remarks.

I’m surprised at Draco’s reaction, perhaps he really has come to feel friendly towards Harry.

“I’ll know he’s there, I’ll stick up for him.” Ron declares, “You too Hermione, and fuck it, if we three ever didn’t work together against darkness of any kind, I don’t know who I’d be anymore. There’s more to life than a sodding job.” He looks sad and I feel awful for him. I truly hope Percy isn’t behind this, though I know he probably is.

I walk over to hug him tightly, “There is, Ron, there’s friendship and love, and none of us have families to support just yet, so we can take the risk this one last time, just like we did all those years ago. Thank you, Ron, thank you so much.”

I think there might be a chance we could go ice skating in hell when I hear Draco speak up too. “Thank you, Weasley.”

Ron mutters under his breath, “I’m doing it for her.” I prod him in the stomach, causing him to cough, then he speaks up. “But, you’re welcome, Malfoy.”

“Right then, now normal service has been resumed, Ron, you’ll take these two to Malfoy Manor when you start your shift in, oh, shit, ten minutes! Malfoy, Hermione, grab Crookshanks and your stuff and be ready. Ron, I’ll send them through once I know McVie has finished his shift. Is everybody clear?”

I chuckle, Harry is an exemplary Auror, I just hope this isn’t the end of that particular line of work for him.

……………

**Draco**

I hear my mother welcome Hermione before I see her.

"Hermione, you came back, dearest girl and you’ve brought your cat, oh, his fur is so soft. What of Draco?" She asks and I'm almost as shocked as Weasley is when I see my mother take Hermione into her arms and hug her tightly, Crookshanks jumps down to avoid being squished and saunters off into the manor like he owns the place. 

I take a moment to truly thank Weasley for his help, holding out my hand, I know we wouldn't be here without him. He may not like the situation, but he helped and that's much more than many would do for the likes of me. "Weasley, I know this is hard for you, but I appreciate your assistance." I say it genuinely, no smirking or goading, just on the level.

He looks at my hand for a moment before clasping it in his own tightly. "Malfoy." He nods, before taking his place at the floo. 

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" I hear Hermione answer her after they watch the cat sniff the air and head off towards the kitchens.

My eyes meet my mother’s, and she runs towards me, her heels clacking on the parquet flooring. "My boy! My son has come home to me!" Her face is filled with joy as she takes me into her arms and holds me tight, "I thought I'd never see you again!" She cries, leaning back and clasping my face in her hands, kissing my cheeks and hugging me to her once more, like she thinks I might disappear. 

Weasley is still at his post opposite me as I look over my mother’s shoulder, but he gives me a genuine grin of understanding, like he knows exactly what it's like to be smothered with mother’s love. I shake my head in mirth but embrace her tightly. She seems smaller than she once was, but I suppose that's because it's been three years since I've taken her in my arms. "I’ve missed you mother, so much."

Hermione is standing a few yards away with tears in her eyes and my mother turns to her, holding out her hand. "I can never repay you, darling girl, I owe you so much for bringing my Draco home to me." Hermione takes her hand and finds herself hugged too. "And Mr Weasley!" She lets us go and walks to him, clutching his hands, "I knew you and Mr Potter would be involved, you're such good boys. Come, you must join us, we'll take tea in the parlour. Mippy!" She calls out and the elf appears. "Mippy, please bring tea and cakes to the parlour, Master Draco is home!" 

Ron looked distraught, "Mrs Malfoy, um, I'm afraid I must stay here at my post, but I would join you if I could." He replied politely. 

"Alright, if you must, dear boy, but I will send Mippy with tea and treats for you." 

"Thank you kindly, Mrs Malfoy." He nodded, returning to his sober stance at the floo. 

"Hermione, you must tell me everything." I hear them talking as my mother looped her arm through hers and virtually dragged her away.

Ron smirks, "Mate, seriously, you get a girlfriend and it's like you're Frankie fourth year, your mum wants to speak to them more than you."

I chuckle and follow them, watching curiously as the two people I love most in the world chatter in the parlour. Its like a dream I never expected to come true, much like what happened with my father. Hermione makes small talk, apologising for not returning the book the borrowed. 

"You've brought home something far more precious to me, I don't care about some silly book." 

I walk to the occasional table holding the crystal decanters and pour myself a glass of Ogden’s finest, taking a moment to acclimatise myself to being home once again. Mippy returns with tea and a selection of cakes and it feels like nothing happened in the past three years, like my home was never occupied by Voldemort, that Hermione was never tortured amongst an infinite list of others, like I'd never been away. I liken it to the summers I returned home from school to find my mother had desperately missed me and was waiting for me with a little spread to welcome me home. I realise, this house is only home because of my mother and the warmth she brings to the old place. I watch her holding hands with Hermione and take a seat beside my girlfriend, sliding a hand around her waist.

My mother’s eyes clock this movement immediately and she covers her mouth to hold in a sob. "You two, you're together!" She eventually speaks, her voice barely under control as she rises to kiss us both on the cheek. "I thought this day could get no better, but my boy returns with his intended!" 

Hermione jolts but then chuckles, "I'm not quite sure we're at that point yet, Narcissa, but, um, yes, we're together. It's only recent." I watch my princess blush to the roots of her hair.

I lace my fingers through hers and face my mother. "We're in love and Hermione’s right, it's early days, so please don't make any plans yet." I place my head against Herrmione’s and shoot my mother a shy smile.

"This is wonderful! I just knew when you came to me, telling me you would help Draco, that you felt something for him, I just felt it in my bones, Hermione." 

She’s still overexcited and its infectious. I feel happier than I have for a long time, but my mother must know the situation. "Mother, this visit may only be short, we have something to tell you and I'm not sure you're going to like it." I hated having to say it when she was so happy, but my mother had to know the danger we were all in.

It took a while and several cups of tea to fill her in on the whole story but when we'd finished, she frowned. "You visited your father." She looked down clasping her hands together. "How was he? Did he—" she took a breath, "Did he mention me? I miss him so. I know he’s done horrible things, but I still love him, and life would be so much more bearable if he were here with me." A tear plops onto her hand and I rise to sit beside her, laying my head on her shoulder and hugging her to me, she seems so much smaller than she was the last time I saw her, but then I’ve grown in height.

"He said Hermione and I reminded him of you both when you were young and in love. Mother, he's doing his best and he was kind to Hermione, he's had a long time to think about his actions." 

She mopped her eyes with a handkerchief, "I've been so lonely without you both, I thought being confined to the house wouldn't be too difficult, but there's no life here, only awful memories and echoes of war. I know at least for now you both cannot stay, but promise me," she grasps both our hands, "please promise me there will be good things to come." 

"Mippy." I'm startled as Hermione summons the elf.

"Yes Miss."

"Please could you help me organise some rooms in a disused wing for us and Lady Malfoy, close together, so Draco and his mother can spend as much time together as possible while we’re here. Somewhere out of sight of the Aurors and please set up a small dining area, so they may celebrate Draco’s homecoming, we will at least be here the night." 

I wanted to smother her with kisses for her kindness towards my mother as she left the parlour and followed Mippy, I knew she was brave too, she'd always been so brave, but to walk off alone in a house where she was tortured, that was another kind of courage. 

"Mother, I shouldn't leave her to wander the Manor alone, she may come across—"

"Oh, no!” Mother claps my arm, “She wouldn't find anything, I've spent my time locking up rooms and hiding doorways. The Aurors removed every dark artefact from the Manor and I've silenced every, nasty, last portrait because I was sick of hearing them. If your father ever returns home, he won't know the place. Let her walk, she may find she likes it." There's a glint in her eyes as she sips her tea. Christ, I never thought I would be actually wondering what it might be like to have Hermione as my wife and the lady of Malfoy Manor.

"Mother, you haven't changed, you're as much a Slytherin as ever." I get up to follow Hermione regardless. She's nowhere in sight, but I feel her magic like a string connecting us and I'll find her eventually, there's no doubt about it. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back from my holiday and I'm posting an extra chapter for you all. I'll be back to regular Thursday posting next week.  
> Love to the amazing badwolfjedi (@ bwjdramione-blog on tumblr) for her beta work and art work <3

 

**Hermione**

It’s strange being back at the manor after all this time, peaceful and not as I remember it at all. That said, I can’t actually remember much from that awful day, only snapshots in my mind. I don’t remember seeing the historic building itself, with its beautiful wood panelling and shining parquet flooring. It has a homely feel now and I don’t feel afraid to wander after the house elf, Mippy, as she proudly shows me the kitchens and we pass through the solarium I met Narcissa in on the first day, the sun blazing through the glass. I stop to smell the hothouse flowers and marvel at the size of the grounds, peering through ornate windows and trailing my fingers over antique artefacts and curios, noticing the family portraits don’t move at all as we move through a gallery, frozen in time, which is unusual. I wonder of Narcissa got fed up with them staring at her as she wandered the house alone. Mippy throws open the doors to a dusty wing, which backs off onto the gardens, its long corridor filled with elaborately detailed French doors with long white silk curtains, flowing as Mippy opens the door to allow the air to circulate.

“If Miss Granger pleases.” She curtseys and holds open a door to a suite.

“Mippy, there’s no need to curtsey to me.”

“But Miss, youse to be Lady Malfoy someday, youse deserving Mippy’s curtsey.”

I laugh out loud at the thought that me, Hermione Granger, muggleborn from Hampstead, could be Lady Malfoy someday. It seems crazy and I don’t want it, but also know if I’m to remain with Draco, there are some things we will have to compromise on. He will be Lord of this Manor upon his father’s death and I, by default, would become his Lady if we were married. I shiver at the thought, unsure it’s a good or bad shiver. Only a few days ago I was happily alone —and likely to remain so— in control of my life, what I did, who I saw, but now it’s begun to spiral beyond my control with this illegal activity at the Ministry, with Draco and his declarations of love, and with my own proclamation that I loved him back. And I did—I do—but I hadn’t thought things through, this house, the title that goes with it, my feelings about how I was tortured in this fine house. It wasn’t the house’s fault, I suppose. The house itself feels good, not like one of those old houses you enter and feel a chill run down your spine, even if I’m surprised it didn’t cause that kind of reaction in me. My ambition is to become Minister one day, and will any eventual ties with the Malfoy family help or hinder me? Would people think I was with Draco for his money and status, or he with me to rebuild his families name and profile? That’s without the outcry which will surely occur when we make our relationship public. There is no way to keep this a secret, but it is something to mull over another day, there’s work to be done and Mippy is looking at me expectantly.

“Let’s get started Mippy.” I lift my wand, immobilising a nest of Cornish pixies hidden in the eaves, their impish little faces filled with wonder as I float them through the air and into a cage Mippy retrieved. We scourgify the drapes and linens, thoroughly cleaning each room in two suites in the wing, and on to clean up a small library which could also pass as a parlour, lighting the fires in the rooms which cast a cosy glow as the early afternoon sun dips out of sight behind foreboding clouds.

I hear Draco before I see him. “You know Mippy was more than capable of taking care of this herself?” He breaks the silence as I look over our handiwork.

“Yes, but she’s the only elf here, and she’ll have food to prepare shortly. Anyway, I wanted to choose some nice rooms for us to use. There’s a pretty guest room right next door for your mother. Where is she by the way?” I peer behind him, but he just smiles and pulls me into his arms.

“She’s gone to rest, it’s been an emotional day and she said she wants to be at her best later when we eat together and perhaps play some card games, talk or whatever we decide to do. So that means—” He kisses the shell of my ear, running his lips down the column of my neck, “—that you’re all mine.”

“Mmm, is that so? I was wondering how soft the sheepskin rug in front of the fire in our room was.”

He produces a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the hand he was holding behind his back. I peer at the label, it’s says ‘Vignobles Malfoy’ or Malfoy Vineyards. I wonder how many properties and lands they own; I’ve never met anyone who owned their own vineyard before, where I grew up, people were lucky of they owned their own homes. “This is from the Malfoy Vineyards?”

“It is, it’s one of the best years we ever had, the year I was born.” He points to 1980 on the label.”

“Oh dear, this won’t do at all. I feel like a cradle-snatcher.” I chuckle, biting my lip, “I was born 9 months before you in 1979, I think you may be a little young for me, I’m so sorry, Draco.”

He grabs me roughly around the waist with his free hand, so I’m face to face with his chest, his breath is coming fast. “I’ve always had a thing for an older woman, Granger,” He bites his lower lip, his eyes glowing with a gunmetal hue, “Or, just you specifically.”

I hear a pop as Mippy leaves us alone, then he’s kissing me, deeply, passionately, he blindly places the bottle and glasses on a side table and takes my face in his hands, cradling my jaw and rubbing circles over my throat with his thumbs. His joggers give me easy access to his burgeoning erection, and I take full advantage, tugging at the elastic waistband until they fall to his knees. I find him naked underneath.

“Draco, you dirty boy, you’re going commando.” I gasp.

“Well, you never know what opportunities you might get to ravish a naughty Gryffindor princess, I was just prepared like any good Slytherin, so I can just—”

“Oh my god, Draco, ‘So I can just Slytherin?’ You were just about to say it, weren’t you? That’s the cheesiest line I’ve heard since Ron asked if Lavender was a broom because she swept him off his feet.”

“Sweet Salazar, that is probably the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard, trust Weasley. Did mine work?” He raises an eyebrow and gives me a smirk.

“My darling Draco, I think you should know by now, that I’m a sure thing.”

He takes me into his arms, tossing me onto the bed, peeling off his t-shirt to reveal a mass of tattoos, muscle and sinew, shaking his hair out of his eyes and beginning a slow crawl up my body. “You have far too many clothes on, princess, so take them off and come sit on my face.”

This was possibly the most embarrassingly erotic thing anyone has ever asked me to do but my stomach flips at his suggestion. His eyes are so black with desire, I acquiesce to his request, biting my lip as I swing my leg over his chest. I can’t say I’m not tempted to try something new, and I brace my hands on the headboard. Within seconds I’m crying out as an orgasm rips through me, feeling him grip my hips with his hands, continuing the assault until I’m breathless and begging for him to fuck me. I was never actually the goody-goody puritanical prude they made me out to be at school, but I wasn’t experienced. Now I know a lot more than I ever thought possible, Draco is intent on ruining me and I have to admit, love it.

……………….

**Draco**

 

We’re laying in a tangle of limbs, and I look at the muggle watch I’ve taken to wearing while wandless, seeing it’s getting on for four. My mother will probably be returning soon so I reluctantly think of getting up. Hermione is asleep in my arms, her breath gently oscillating a curl near her mouth. I reach to move it away with my little finger and watch her sleep. I sort of get this thing of watching people while they sleep now, because she’s like a delicate little flower when she slumbers, her brow occasionally furrowing and her nose twitching—like she’s trying to decipher some difficult spell—her lashes fluttering delightfully over a smattering of honey coloured freckles on her upper cheeks.

“The pixies can’t have dinner.” She murmurs in her sleep. Now this is amusing, Hermione Granger talks in her sleep, why did I not notice this before?

“Why is that?” I ask, biting back a chuckle by covering my mouth with my hand.

“Hmm, because they don’t,” she lets out a light snore on an in-going breath, “they don’t like chocolate frogs.”

I want to roar with laughter but hold back in case she continues with this amusing repartee. I watch as she holds her hand out behind her, eyes still closed while searching for something. Then she wakes, peering at me under her lashes. “I-I needed a drink of water; I thought I was at home.”

“Mippy.” I voice and she appears with a pop.

“Mippy is here, Master Draco.” She smiles happily.

“Please could you bring some ice water for us and some cold fruit. Is my mother awake?”

“The missis, says she’ll arrive for an early dinner in the parlour next door at five, I’s making your favourite, roast beefs and Yorkshire puddings, with apple pie and custards for afters.”

“Thank you Mippy, you’re very kind. Could you make sure there is some left for Auror’s Weasley and Potter?”

“The missis already asked me to, she says they’s good boys and must be fed too.”

With that, she vanishes.

“Is Mippy free?” Hermione eyes me, she looks a little grumpy.

“She’s free and works for a wage mother almost had to force on her. We couldn’t ask the elves to stay when Bellatrix began using them for sport, but Mippy wanted to, she’s been with us since my father was a child.”

She nods, pulling the sheets closer to her neck as Mippy returns with the fruit and water.

I draw her into my arms, breathing her sleepy scent in. “I’ve just had the most interesting conversation with you in your sleep. You advised me that the Cornish Pixies were unable to stay to dinner because they don’t like chocolate frogs.” I snigger, “Of course, I was unaware they had been invited, or that’s what we were having, but any friend of yours and all that.”

Hermione looks horrified and is hiding her reddened face in my neck as I chuckle.

“I forgot about that, Parvati and Lavender used to tell me I said all sorts in my sleep, it never usually makes any sense.” Her voice is muffled as she hides her embarrassment from me.

“If it’s always as funny as that, I’ll look forward to the next time.”

She slaps me gently and pouts. “You wait Mister, I’ll get something on you!” She promises.

“I’ve never been told I talk in my sleep, but there’s always a first time.” I grin as she pokes out her tongue at me.

We eat our snack and drink, feeling refreshed, before we head to the bathroom, there’s time for a quick bath before mother arrives and I eye her pert arse as she wraps the sheet around her as she walks, it’s a delectable view.

There’s a pop before we enter the bathroom and Mippy arrives brandishing a pair of scissors. “The missis says Master Draco must have his hair cut, she says Master Draco may either keeps it long or has it short, but it is a mess and must be trimmed by Mippy.”

Hermione is stifling her giggles behind her hand. “I guess I’ll see you later, then, you’d better listen to your mother.” She saunters into the bathroom laughing to herself. Damnit! Gone are my plans for a leisurely shag in the bath before dinner.

“Alright, let’s get this over with, Mippy.” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

……………….

**Hermione**

 

It seems strange to eat at the makeshift dining table in what is essentially a bedroom, but its homely and intimate. I spend time filling Narcissa in on the goings on in the world since she’s been under house arrest and we relay our story about what happened between us, but in much more detail.

“I wish you were able to stay longer, but I’ll take what I can get my darlings.”

“The dinner was gorgeous; I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten so well.” I lean back and pat my stomach. Draco snorts, a grin curling the edges of his mouth.

“Is something funny?” I ask, at a loss for what he could find amusing in that statement.

“Hermione is the most wonderful cook, mother, she made a chicken risotto last night that was perfect in every way.” Draco tells his mother proudly.

Narcissa looks at me curiously, “You feed yourself in your home in the muggle world, with no elves to assist you? That is very—modern of you.”

“I enjoy cooking, Narcissa, you should try it some time, it’s a wonderful way to keep occupied and I find it incredibly therapeutic when I’ve returned from a long day at work. I cook for myself and my friends regularly. There’s nothing as satisfying as watching your friend’s glow with happiness while eating tasty food you’ve prepared yourself the muggle way.” I can see the cogs working over in Narcissa brain and I glance at Draco, who shrugs.

“I would like to try; do you think you could suggest some books I may order? Surely the ministry couldn’t deny me some simple muggle cooking books?”

“Absolutely, and I think it would do the world of good for your image, perhaps by showing you’re attempting to reconcile with the new wizarding order and their policies.”

We chat for a while, and I can see Narcissa is very interested in joining the wizarding worlds newly reformed society, she speaks of charity work for the children involved in the war and I think it’s a wonderful idea.

It seems we have become complacent when Mippy pops into the room looking frazzled, “Master Draco and Miss Granger must be leaving immediately, Auror Robards and five other Auror’s has been arriving at the floo, they’s saying they’s going to search the manor. Missis, I’m sorry, I couldn’t be stopping them, they’s started in the east wing, in Master Draco’s bedroom.”

“Thank you Mippy, tell them you’ve gone to wake me and that I was resting. Hermione dear, you can’t apparate from here, Draco has no wand and the Malfoy wards won’t allow it, plus, any magic you use will be traced by the Auror’s. You must head for the dungeons.” She gathers me into her arms, releasing me and rushing to Draco. “The escape tunnel is still in working order, my dragon, keep your love safe, and return to me when you can.”

“Mother, I can’t leave you, not like this!” Draco’s face is filled with pure misery as he hugs her tightly.

“You will go and you will protect yourself,” she speaks sternly, but her kindly face portrays the reverse, “I will not see you in Azkaban alongside your father, you will not argue with me on this, I need both you and Hermione to be safe and this is the only way. I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with far worse than Robards and his cronies.” With one last desperate glance at us, she steels her face and leaves the room, her heels clacking speedily down the corridor.

Draco holds his hand out to me, I see a hint of fear in his eyes and I know we cannot be caught here, not by them. He moves to a large painting in the corner of the room, depicting some Malfoy ancestor with his chestnut Abraxan, and watch as it opens like a door, leading to a set of stone steps filled with cobwebs and darkness, clearly leading down toward the dungeons. I hesitate. “Can’t we stay here and lay low? Surely there must be somewhere we can hide in a place of this size?” I speak softly but urgently.

“Hermione, we have to go, they know every nook and cranny in this house, the only place they don’t know about is the escape tunnel, it’s glamoured to look like a picture of the estate, it’s entrance looks too odd to be covering anything.” He pulls me down the steps and I purse my lips in annoyance at not being able to use the simplest Lumos to light our way.

“Stop.” He whispers sharply, holding my body still against his back. I hear the muffled voices above us which caused him to stop.

_“I know you’re hiding him here Lady Malfoy, and if you don’t tell us where he is, we’ll have no choice but to commit you to Azkaban to serve out the rest of your sentence.”_

Its Robards and he sounds rather desperate. I know he’s lost track of us for that very reason. I stand on my tip toes and whisper in Draco’s ear. “He’s clutching at straws; he can’t do that without her being brought before the Wizangamot once more, and how would he explain that he’s searching her home for a free man?”

 _“I assure you; I haven’t seen Draco in a year, he’s free is he not? Therefore he doesn’t need to be here, he may stay wherever he likes, even in his own home if he wishes, without harassment. What is this about? What has he done to bring you here in such a state? I demand to know!”_ Narcissa asks, I can tell she won’t be intimidated. I suppose that’s become easier after residing in her home with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord for so long.

 _“You’re not in a position to demand anything as spouse and mother of Death Eaters!”_ Robards replies.

_She tuts. “Regardless of your opinion of me, I am still mistress of this house and you are no longer welcome! You know your job is only to ensure I stay within these walls! You can see I am here and search the place for all I care. You will find nothing but the emptiness I suffer through daily without my family. This is the punishment the wizangamot doled out to me and if you take issue with it, then I suggest you take me to them now so I may tell them the same!”_

Go Narcissa!

Robards Grumbles, turning to take his anger out on Ron. “ _Weasley! Has anyone entered this place since this morning? Tell me lad, because if you’re lying, I’ll know it, and your career will be over!”_ Robards yells at Ron.

 _“No sir, no-one in, only last shift out.”_ Ron says steadily. He knows he might be found out, but he doesn’t care, I know he has our backs and I adore him for it.

“Draco, come on, we don’t have time for this, your mother will be fine, she’s a strong woman and they don’t have a leg to stand on without viable proof we were here.” I push at his hips to make him walk on. “Where does this lead anyway?” I murmur as we come to the dungeons, airless and cold, with water dripping down frigid walls. Draco pauses at a painting of a wizard in shackles, set a few feet from the floor. He curls his fingers and pulls it open with some difficulty, it hasn’t been used for a while, that much is clear. I peer inside and see a tunnel, yipping as Draco lifts me and pushes me inside unexpectedly. He follows me after by hoisting himself up easily with legs longer than mine. He pulls the makeshift door closed and it clicks shut behind us. Pushing some cobwebs out of his face, he spits out some dust with a sour face, before following me.

We stand in the gloom and I hear Draco’s hushed voice as he eases past me to lead the way. “This passage comes out under the Old George Inn, a 17th century coaching Inn near Trowbridge, about two miles away. They hold disillusioned rooms for the Malfoys, I just need to use my ring to get in. It contains no magic, it’s just like a key so there’s no danger they’ll track us. We can trust the owner; he’s been paid enough galleons over the years for the bloody privilege.”

We seem to wander for forever in the dark, Draco’s hand clutching mine tightly as he forges forward. All I can hear is the drip of damp walls and the splash of our feet as we tread over damp flagstones and through puddles, until black turns to leaden grey, then to purplish twilight and I see a gap in the side of a muggle pavement above our heads, there are a few people passing, laughing and jostling each other.

“Not far now.” He mutters as we near some sewage pipes. I wrinkle my nose as I hear the scuttle of rats beside us. Draco stops, causing me to smack into his back.

“We’re here.” He fumbles around for a minute or so and I assume he’s trying to find the slot for his ring. “The last time I was here I had my wand, it was during 6th year, I came here for a bit of peace occasionally.”

Seriously, I’m going to get one of those wind-up muggle torches, or even battery powered is better than no light at all. The door opens and I’m almost blinded by the glow as a fire instantly roars to life in the grate, with lamps lighting one by one around the large room. I feel a blast of warmth chilling my cold bones as we step inside and Draco carefully closes the door behind us.

“Make yourself comfortable, princess.” He throws himself onto the four-poster bed, looking sullen or perhaps he’s furious and attempting to hide it.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” I sit gently beside him, taking his nearest hand and interlacing my fingers with his.

“We should never have involved her in this Hermione, I knew they’d find out. I even warned Potter about it!”

“She’ll be fine, you saw her give them hell, they were getting nothing from her. Harry will find us eventually and your mother or Ron will tell him where we went.” I attempt to soothe his distress.

There’s a knock at the door and Draco drops my hand, standing swiftly to open it.

“Salazar’s grave, I thought you were your father for a moment there, Master Malfoy, you’ve grown so tall and broad.” A plump man with a large greying, bushy beard and bright blue eyes steps inside the room. “How are you, sir?” He holds his hand out to shake Draco’s, pumping it jovially, before he spy’s me. “Oh, Miss, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to check if you needed any refreshments, please excuse my barging in—” A look of shock crosses his face when he realises who I am.

“That’s perfectly alright, Smithers, Miss Granger and I will be staying here for tonight at least, possibly longer but I will advise you in the morning of our plans. Refreshments would be most welcome, cheese and biscuits and a bottle of Vintage Ogden’s.” Draco turns to me, “Princess, would you like anything else?”

“Some cold water please, Mr Smithers.” I smile gratefully.

Smithers stares at me for a few more seconds and then replies. “Then you shall have it my lord and you’ll let me know if you require anything else.”

Draco follows him from the room and closes the door. I don’t want to eavesdrop, but I question why Draco feels the need to shut me out of the conversation. He returns a few minutes later to a raised eyebrow from me.

“I needed to explain what’s happened, his family have run the Inn since it opened, and Smithers is pureblood. He’s not prejudiced, I think he was just overwhelmed to see one of the Golden Trio here. Usually it was my father and some witch he decided he wanted to bed who would use the rooms, thankfully my mother never knew. Regardless, he is a trustworthy sort and I told him the Auror’s may come through town looking for me. He will, of course, tell them he would never allow my sort in his establishment.”

Smithers knocks returning with a tray of refreshments and places them on a table. “Miss Granger, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. My wife has told me that you need only ask if you need anything to sleep in or anything else for your toilette, Master Malfoy has explained the situation you find yourselves in.”

“That’s so kind of you, and your wife, we’ll certainly call down if we need anything else.” I walk over and pat him gently on the arm with a grateful smile.

Draco’s watching me with a strange look adorning his face once Smithers leaves. “What? I appreciated his consideration.” I furrow my brow, thinking he was jealous.

“I know.” He sighs melodramatically, “I just—Look, I just never thought there would be so many people who would even try to help me. He told me he always knew I wasn’t like the others, like my father, he gave me his word he’d do everything he can to help us, it’s all a bit overwhelming.”

……………………

**Draco**

 

"Are you OK, Draco?" Hermione asks me for the second time as my mind drifts back to my mother at the tail end of Robards interrogation. I feel anxiety swirl through my stomach and the strange feeling of my skin crawling. I know what it is, it’s the beginning of a demon panic attack which will take hold if I don’t control myself. I grit my teeth and force it back into its cage.

"Fine, I'm just worried about her." I reply, uncertain if she's alright at all. It's killing me not knowing. I hate that Weasley’s the only one available to protect her, I don't think he'd fuck me over, nor Potter, but I can't be sure, and I detest being beholden to them in this way, even if things have become more cordial between us.

Loud thumps sound on the door, "Master Malfoy, it’s Mrs Smithers, open up quickly."

I rush for the door, my guts buzzing with barely checked anxiety, my hand tremors as I turn the door-knob, only to find a frightened face on the threshold.

"The Aurors are here, they're searching the place right now. Every room and every person must be accounted for in the visitor’s book. This room is disillusioned but it would only take a well-placed Revellio to find you here. You must leave via the cellar entrance right now, please, we can't protect you like this." She has a large rucksack of supplies in her hand which she pushes into my arms. "This contains food, a change of clothes and some other items. Draco, please take care of yourselves, they seem to be out for your blood."

Neither Mr or Mrs Smithers have ever called me by my first name, and I realise they’ve been very concerned since our arrival. She clutches my arm and I look first to her hand gripping my shirt and then back to her worried eyes. "Robards—h-he isn't good, he did things during the war, not to us, but to other pureblood families, to those who didn't take part in the war but were related to Death Eaters who did, those who didn’t deserve it as they wouldn’t take sides. He and his gang travelled from town to town taking children and young people along with a few adults, then putting them into some camp, or that was what we heard on the quiet. Some of them were never seen again, they’ve never been returned to their families and the families are too terrified to ask what happened for fear of repercussions. They aren’t from famous pureblood families who can create a stink and I don't know what happened to them, but I know the Ministry must have brushed it under the carpet, if they knew at all. Things have been good for the muggleborns and half-bloods since the war ended, but please understand, things haven't changed for us, we live in fear of people like Robards and the rottenness at the core of the Ministry. The papers say the war is over; and life seems to go on around us, even the Prophet follows the pureblood Zabini and his exploits, like he’s some kind of good example, but it runs far deeper than that, we fear for our lives, people like Robards still wander the wizarding world unchecked, unsupervised, in a position of power, because the Ministry think they’re good men."

I’m so shocked I’m not sure what to say, my brain buzzes with the realisation that the war was more than a few well-placed battles, and those hanging on the Dark Lords word. It was about people, real witches and wizards who’ve fallen victim to its consequences without the good guys knowledge, because they were all so focussed on what they thought mattered, rebuilding wizarding Britain. I go to speak, but find myself barged out of the way, brunette ringlets swinging in my face.

"Who was Robards with tonight? Was it only him?" Hermione clutches Mrs Smithers by the upper arms, speaking urgently. 

"I saw a redhead, he was always with him when I saw him in the past, I don't know his name, but he's been here again tonight." She looks fearful. "I can't lose my husband— our living—we can't have them here hurting any other purebloods who live in this town, you must leave, I'm sorry, so very sorry."

“It’s alright, I understand, we will make this right, I can’t believe this has happened after what I risked my life for! I wanted a better world and you will have a better world if it’s the last thing I do!” Hermione hugs Mrs Smithers.

She ushers us down into the cellars and opens the hatch which leads up to the street. She closes it swiftly with an apologetic look after we climb the ladder to street level.

"Draco, we have to know its him! We have to stay and watch, I must know it's Percy, and we need to identify the others, so we can tell Harry."

"Hermione, for fucks sake!" I grab her by the arms and push her back against the wall, "Listen to me for once, just once! I can't protect you, they'll take me and probably kill me and it's only you and your friends, or my parents who know where I am, who know I'm alive! What's next, I turn up dead with Robards saying I committed suicide? Or they take me to one of these camps? If they get hold of me, I could be done for and there's not a damn thing you could do about it! You can't fight them alone!"

I see her stand tall as she pushes me away, throwing her hands in the air in frustration, "I'm more fucking capable than you think, Malfoy!"

Oh shit, she's serious here as she's back to calling me Malfoy.

"I love you, but you don't know what I did in the war, you weren't there!" She hisses.

"I know you risked your life, fuck, I saw you barely escape with it at the Manor, but this isn't war, princess, this is an investigation into deep seeded corruption, and it's way worse than we first thought. This is our life now and I want to know if you're ever going to stop putting yourself in danger! Is this how it'll always be between us? Me never knowing what crusade you'll be on next? Or if we have children, when you’ll next run off and throw yourself to the wolves?"

"In case you've forgotten, this is for you, to save you! To make them pay for what they did to you! And now others are suffering, have been suffering for years. This world isn't fair for everyone, I fought for equality, integrity, for us all to have peace. I can't believe we're even having this conversation!"

"It started out that way, but now it’s far more dangerous than ever, this is work for the Unspeakables!” I close my eyes, concerned I’ll say too much. “Do you know what? Go, just go and look, waste valuable escape time so you can placate yourself! We know it's them already, all the signs point right to it. Didn't you hear what Mrs Smithers said? She told us both how dangerous Robards is, what he’s been doing for years."

"I'm sorry, I know, but I have to see for myself. Just give me five minutes, just five." She's pleading now and I want to take her and hide her away so that none of those twats will ever find her. I shake my head, clenching my fists in frustration and turning away from her. “I can’t.” I mutter.

She's gone by the time I look around and terror rips through any backbone I had. I walk to-and-fro for a few seconds, trying to work out what to do. I see the bag Mrs Smithers gave us lying on the ground and I open it. It contains food, maps, a tent and something which looks very much like a portkey. I pick up the trinket, a silver ring, feeling its magic warm my hand and loop my arms through the rucksack, striding to the end of the alley where she just left. It's dark and the town is quiet. I easily spot her from my vantage point on the opposite side of the road, crouching near a large headstone in the small churchyard. I can see those we hoped to avoid, all dressed like the dark figure I saw the night she was attacked, almost looking like fucking Death Eaters! There's no way to tell which one it was who attacked her, but I'd cheerfully strangle every last one of them for daring to touch her the night I saved her. If I had my wand, Merlin, they’d be turned into worms I’d squish under foot, you can’t know how much I miss the feel of Hawthorn between my fingertips at this moment.

They're moving closer to her by the second and I know they sense we're here, somehow; they just know. I creep along the wall, my backpack scraping gently on the stone as I try to stay in the shadows. I watch them as they turn the other way, discussing their plans undoubtedly, so I take the moment to make my way silently through the shadows to her. Reaching a headstone nearest to her, I slip in some mud, causing gravel to scatter and birds in the evergreen tree above us to squawk and flutter away. Shitting bollocks! I carefully turn my head to look at her as she does the same. Then I spot one of the figures apparating away in an inky swirl from the corner of my eye.

“Get down!” I mouth urgently.

"Imperio!" The curse wizzes past her head and I reach out to her, my arm straining to get to her. She’s a few headstones away from me and she ducks her head to the ground. Then another. "Alarte Ascendare!" This one barely misses her, and I know they're getting closer, not caring which spells or curses they're using.

"Stupify!" Hermione darts out and shoots back, causing me to almost experience a heart attack. Don't goad them Hermione, I plead with my eyes, if I must be cowardly for her, I fucking will be, because, hey, I'm the breakable one without a wand.

"Crutio!" Another curse flies between the two headstones, burning a streak of grass between us.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Flipendo!" She fires back, hitting her target and sending one high into the air before they drop and roll over the gravelled street.

I take my opportunity and dive at her, grabbing her hands and activating the port key, praying I was right about the ring.

...........

**Hermione**

 

Draco gives me a cantankerous look.

"I'm not going to say you were right, however much you huff!"  I tell him, shoving him off me and standing. "You were an arsehole, you made me feel like I couldn't protect myself." 

We’re brushing mud and leaves off our clothes.

"And —oh, yeah — that's exactly what happened." He drawls sarcastically, snorting and looking around us.

I grumble under my breath, he was right, but I’ll never admit it. I also haven’t forgotten that he mentioned we might have children someday. I file that away for another time. "Where are we anyway?" I ask, seeing only shadows, trees and a golden glow over a hilltop.

"Who knows?" He replies simply and I know he's still annoyed with me.

I walk to the edge of the hill and peer over, "Oh, my god! Hampstead! This is Hampstead! I'd recognise it anywhere! It's where I was born, it’s home!" I turn to him, running into his arms. "I'm sorry, so sorry, don't be angry with me. We’re safe now and we can stay at my old house tonight; then I'll find a way to contact Harry and he'll move us to a safe house."

He gathers me close and kisses the top of my head. I hate it when we row and being in his arms is so comforting after the night we’ve had.

"Are you certain it's safe? Because I have a tent in this bag, and we can find somewhere to camp?" He utters.

"My house might be pretty dusty by now but it's only a mile east from here. I'm exhausted and it would be great to sleep in a bed." 

"Well then, I suggest you hop onto my back and I'll carry you at least some of the way." He suggests.

I haven’t totally had it, but I am exhausted, and it sounds like too good an offer to miss. "I couldn't, you must be tired too?" I hesitate as he holds his arms out to the side awaiting me to climb on.

"I'd do anything for you, walk through fire, flagellate myself, carry you by piggyback." He chuckles. "Jump on my little Gryffindor."

Thank Merlin all is forgiven, I thought for a moment he was going to leave as soon as he could because I’d run off and left him. Heading right towards the dark figures alone had been stupid, I know that, and he had saved me from myself. Hero complex, that's what he called it, and I don’t doubt it’s something that causes me to throw all caution to the wind. I realise the rush of danger was a hard thing to replace as I experience the come down, I’d missed it and perhaps it was a kind of addiction? I add this thought to the long list of things I need to address about myself when there’s more time to think. I hop up onto his back and we laugh as I nearly fall off when I place all my weight on the backpack, almost breaking the straps. I rest my forehead against the nape of his neck, hugging it to my tummy. "They used Unforgivables." I heave a sigh—I can hardly believe it. "They're supposed to be the good guys. Harry and Ron believed in them and now everything I thought was right has gone to the dogs."

"I don't want to say I told you so, but those bastards have sunk to that point, yeah, and it sounds like the corruption is far deeper than we thought."

"They wanted to torture me, or at the very least control me. Did you hear those curses? I thought I was imagining it."

"I heard them, every one of them and I was tortured by everyone they aimed at you, but you're Hermione Granger, my girl, and I wasn't going to let those gits get you. We were just lucky Mrs Smithers gave us the portkey or we would have been well and truly fucked." 

"I don't know what would've happened if she hadn't. I didn’t exactly heed what Harry always warned me against, he always told me to shoot and scoot, never to leave myself cornered, but that’s what I did, that was my mistake."

"Princess, I know you don't want to hear this, but you three didn't really fight in the war. You were on the run throughout, you didn't take part in the skirmishes, the smaller battles, you were searching for answers during the battle of Hogwarts. I can't really say tactics are either yours or Potters forte. Tactics were drilled into us by the Dark Lord, force concentration, reconnaissance, smoke screening, exploitation, the list was never ending, and it all went to shit for everyone involved because of the location of the final battle. If anything, we all should've used muggle mediaeval battle techniques to fight in the castle."

He doesn't speak after that and I mull over what he said. Less people might've died if I'd thought of that myself, thought of muggle history like the bloody Dark Lord did, he had the upper hand all along and we barely won by the skin of our teeth.

"We're almost there, just cut down this path and my street is through the trees." I feel a painful sob rise in my throat as what's left of my house comes into view. Home, but no longer home. I reach to curl my hand around Draco’s throat, giving me leverage to lay my head on the back of his, breathing in his scent. He makes a small noise but doesn't complain, even though I must be almost strangling him. "I-It's number 27." I whimper.

We arrive outside to find the house boarded up and fire damaged. I begin to sob in earnest, and he drops me to the ground and takes me into his arms as I cry. 

"I'm sorry, this was probably Death Eaters, I didn't know, I would never have taken you here if I did, princess." 

.....

**Draco**

 

This night is getting worse by the minute, we've come all this way to find her house damaged by fire or the war, I really can’t be sure. She's crying in my arms and I know this house was the last link to her parents, I don't know what else I can do to soothe her. I watch an elderly lady walking a scruffy dog in our direction on the path, stumbling over her shoes, while the dog pulls on its leash. She stops and peers at us both and the dog trembles, barely making it to the grass of the next-door garden to do its business. 

"Madam, do you know what happened here?" I ask politely, noting her dog is cowering and staying as far away from her as possible.

"Yes, oh, my dear, it was awful, the poor Granger family died in a fire, it broke my heart it did, they were such nice people, dentists and their daughter was—"

Hermione lifts her head, breaking away from me. "Mrs King? It's Hermione!" She runs closer but stops dead before the elderly woman, I guess she’s not sure if the old woman recognises her.

"Good Lord! Hermione! Darling, I thought you perished along with your parents! Come to me, I've missed you so!"

I watch my love embrace her elderly neighbour, both seeming grateful to find one another after all this time. 

"I was working away, I-I can't tell you where, I was told they died but I didn't know you thought I was dead too, Ada."

The elderly woman wipes away a tear and breaks the embrace gently, holding her at arms-length and looking over Hermione like she was her own. "You and your young man must come inside for a cup of tea and an early breakfast." 

It's only then I notice the dawn breaking and my stomach rumbles, it's been a while since we've eaten. I walk forward and hold out my hand. "Draco Malfoy, at your service, madam."

"Holy mother of god, Hermione, have you brought Mr Darcy home for tea? He is certainly rather dishy." The woman, who looks to be in her nineties, places the back of her hand on her forehead and swoons dramatically. Hermione’s tinkling laugh washes over me like a tincture.

I see Hermione turn her head and appraise me from top to toe with a wicked grin. "Yes, I suppose he is, isn't he?"

I can’t say I’ve ever experienced the butterfly’s other witches and wizards described when they were in love in my stomach before, but it certainly happened right at that moment.

We follow Ada into the house, and I hear them chattering like the old friends they are. I understand Mrs King cared for Hermione when her parents needed a babysitter. It's an odd term, and I assume there was no sitting on babies involved. I knew the moment I shook her hand that Ada was magical, or perhaps a squib, I felt the odd spark of magic one feels when one is from the wizarding world. I wonder if Hermione realises.

"We've had an awful day and we hoped to find somewhere to stay the night, it's just got so late and we wondered how bad a state the house was in." I hear her telling Ada.

"Hermione, you and your young man may stay with me and rest, although it's barely night now. The spare room is upstairs on the left. Take a bath if you like, you look frazzled, dear." 

The dog moves behind my legs and I feel it shaking against my ankle. Odd.

Hermione yawns loudly and heads to the stairs. "We'll catch up later, I need to know everything that’s gone on in the neighbourhood since I’ve been gone." She grins at Ada from the bottom of the stairs. 

"I'll be there in a minute, I'm just finishing my tea." I call in response, taking another sip.

Something isn't right. This is just too easy, and if Ada’s pet was terrified by visitors, it wouldn’t be cowering behind me, it would be at her side. I lean against the counter, watching the woman potter around the kitchen. I notice she tries to put away some cups from the drainer but opens three cupboards before she finds the right one. "So, who are you really?" I spot a carving knife on the counter to my right.

"Dear Mr Darcy, whatever do you mean?" She turns and the glamour fails momentarily, her hair turns red for the briefest moment and I grab the knife, moving quickly and holding it against the woman’s throat. 

"Move and I'll gut you, you had no problem trying to do that to her in Trowbridge!" I hiss.

"She's sullied herself with the likes of you!" The glamour drops again, and I realise I have Percy Weasley in my grip. I hear the dog whine and scratch at the cellar door but don’t take my eyes from his.

"So, what is this? Blood supremacy in reverse? Should she feel guilt for being with me?" My voice is louder, and I hope Hermione will return with her wand. "What did you do to the old woman?"

"The old biddy is dead, just like you should be, just like Ron's fiancée should be, Slytherin slag! Hermione should be with Charlie!" His face is coming through as he gets angrier, the tosser doesn't even know how to control his glamour properly. 

"I don't understand, so why don't you explain? How are you, a pureblood, from a now respected pureblood family even able to spout this shit? It doesn't make sense."

"Us purebloods who took part in the war are allies, Robards will give us high status in his new model Ministry, but you, filthy scum, will be executed! Any pureblood who doesn’t submit will suffer the same fate!" 

I hear a gasp and turn my head to see Hermione standing in the hall, listening to every word.

She holds up her wand, "How could you? I trusted you! How could you take this new and precious world we've created and turn it dark again?" I watch her stance, prepared for battle. "Revelio!" She shouts and Percy stands before us, his glamour gone and his neck still on the end of my knife.

"They know my brother and Harry are involved and they want him!” He nods as me slightly. “Hermione, they only want Malfoy in Azkaban for the cull, If he’d stayed in muggle London like Robards hoped, Robards would’ve made sure he stayed there forever. You could walk away right now and marry Charlie. I saw how you were together, how you kissed at the burrow the other night, he can make you happy and we could find Ron someone unsullied! We still have the opportunity to mix the bloodlines, to make Robards happy, to make him the new Minister." 

My hand wavers, as I hear what he said, did she really kiss Charlie Weasley and then come home to me? 

.........

**Hermione**

 

"Don't listen to him Draco!" I want to hex Percy so badly for killing Mrs King, I can barely contain myself. 

"She kissed him last year,” Percy grins inanely, “he told me he wanted to fuck her, and if he had she could be carrying the next perfect generation by now! He's home right now waiting for her to come to him before he leaves."

The hand Draco holds on the knife quivers and he draws it away by an inch. "Is this true? Did you kiss Charlie?" His eyes are dangerous, his eyes filled with gunmetal silver, just like they used to be in school when he was about to rip me to shreds with his tongue.

"What? How could you think that? I kissed him once a year ago, we were sad about Fred, it doesn't need an explanation, I wasn't with you then!" I holler.

Percy takes the opportunity to run for the back door while we're not paying attention. I blast a stupefy, but only succeed in blowing a hole in the door. I run after him but he's apparated so fast I didn’t have a chance to catch him.

"Fuck! We had him, and now all I have is the mental image of you snogging another damn Weasley!" Draco blurts, running his hands through his hair as he thumps the counter with a closed fist.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you value one kiss over our safety? Over my love for you? I'm going to find a way to contact Harry and let him find somewhere for you to stay, because we're done Draco!" 

"Fucking great, that's just fucking great, take me somewhere, just anywhere I don't have to hear about your love for the Weasley pissing redheads!"

He's being unreasonable to the point of idiocy and I'm not going to even try to placate him, it's his problem, not mine. "I'm going next door, follow or don't follow, I can't say I care right now." I storm through the front door, but at the last-minute feel distressed, turning to watch his actions. I don’t mean it and my heart is almost breaking at the thought he might believe me, we’re so far from done its not funny, I know if I lost him now it would break me.

He doesn’t follow me, instead he walks to the cellar door and picks up Ada’s distraught Cocker Spaniel.

“Alright, alright, I know little fellow.” He listens as the dog whines and licks his face, heading back to the kitchen to grab a bowl and some tins of dog food. His movements seem almost robotic, he looks pained and he’s biting his lips as if to control his emotions.

I remember Harry's words, but it seems hiding in plain sight doesn't work, what happened at Malfoy Manor and here was an example of that. Blue lights begin to flash in the corner of my eye, and I hear the wail of a police car approaching, someone must have heard the back door explode as I tried to stun Percy and called them.

“Draco, we need to go, now!” I take the chance to use my wand once more, hoping my wards will be enough to protect us this time. I grasp Draco’s arm and apparate us and the poor suffering dog to the Forest of Dean.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, I left you on a cliffy last time, apologies for that. Thanks as always to the lovely Badwolfjedi, who spares her precious time to beta this fic for me, thanks my sweet <3

 

**Draco**

I follow her through the trees, clutching the terrified dog inside my hoodie, his head poking out of the zipper near my face. We’re in a wooded hollow and its virtually pitch black. “Fuck!” I whisper as my shin hits a log, almost tripping me.

“Give me the backpack.” She demands, and I know she’s still mad as a box of chocolate frogs. I pull it loose and drop it to the floor before her. She roots around inside for a minute and then she utters a spell.

“Erecto.”

The small tent becomes larger and she heads to the flaps at the front, heading inside, carrying the backpack with her. I look at the dog and it licks my face again.

She returns and begins casting wards, her hands held high as she propels the charms far over our heads. I watch silently as she finishes and head towards the tent.

“Look mate, she’s pissed off with me, so you close your ears if she shouts, alright?”

He yips in response and I feel his tail wagging under my hoodie.

I push through the entrance to the tent and find its huge inside, there are beds and a fire pit in the centre of the room. I can’t believe she’s so damn clever and she’s mine. I’ve been an utter git and I deserve her ire, but isn’t that story of my life?

“This is—wow!” I investigate a kitchen area, with food on the counter, a table and chairs, along with a few comfy chairs, the whole place filled with draped fabrics similar to the inside of a hareem tent I once saw in wizarding Morocco.

“Baxter, come.” She holds out her hands to the dog and he wriggles out of my top, running to her and jumping into her arms and she sits in one of the comfy chairs. So that’s this little pup’s name? Baxter. I couldn’t leave him, I only ever had a cat at the Manor who ran away when the Dark Lord arrived, her name was Pandora, a half kneazle but blue, sleek and haughty, unlike Hermione’s dishevelled Crookshanks. She’s sobbing into the dog’s fur and I don’t know what to say so I leave the tent, sliding down to sit against a tree outside.

Half an hour later, Baxter runs from the entrance to the tent, wagging his tail before running off to relieve himself against a tree across the copse. Hermione follows, I suppose to check he doesn’t run off. I watch as the dog sniffs around, his nose setting off a wall of white light, which shimmers but doesn’t let him pass.

“He can’t get through, so you don’t need to worry he’ll run off.” She takes a seat beside me, her eyes raw from her tears.

I look at a stick I’ve been lacing through my fingers. “I’m sorry, whatever happened between you and Charlie Weasley was none of my business.” I say eventually.

“I wasn’t crying over that, if that’s what you thought. I know you can be that way; I know a Malfoy always gets what he wants, I heard you say it enough times in school. You have me and you think I’m your property.” She sniffs.

Is she kidding me? “I thought you believed I’d changed, Hermione? And now were back to blaming me for the way I was as an ignorant kid? Is this really the end? Do you really want that?”  She doesn’t reply but her chest stutters and she bites her lips together and I feel something inside me threaten to shatter. “Are we done, Hermione? Is this it?”

She releases a choked cry and I get onto my knees, taking her face in my palms. She’s shaking her head no.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s too early on in our relationship and I don’t know enough about you to alleviate your pain, sweetheart, tell me what it is, and I’ll do my best to help you, you know I’d do anything for you, anything.” I feel like I’m losing her, and the thought makes me desperate.

“I trusted him! I trusted all the Weasleys like they were my own family!” Tears flood forth and she clutches at my arms wildly. “I thought Percy was good, and now I find out that he was never on the side of good. He murdered my friend! Someone who cared for me from a baby! Percy knew I’d lost my parents, had to make the decision to obliviate them and send them away. I did that! _I did it!_ And, for what? For people to live in fear? to give us a world like we might’ve had under Voldemort! When will it ever end, Draco? When will it ever be OK for me to rest?” She’s sobbing and I brush her tears away, listening, only listening to her hurt as it’s the only thing I can do. “I’m so tired, I drink to rid myself of the nightmares, only to find it’s not enough, that while I’ve believed the world is a better place, we’re right back where we started because I took my eye off the ball!”

I take her into my arms, hushing her while she howls in pain, feeling tears flood my cheeks. I know I was part of what broke her and that’s what makes me feel worse, but she needs me to be strong, like she was for me when I broke down last night. I’m also glad she’s spoken of her drinking and it means we can address that later. “This isn’t like that, it isn’t, this is something we can stop.” Her lamentation slows to hiccupping sniffles. “We need to call Harry, we need him and Ron to speak to Kingsley, to contact the Unspeakable’s and tell them what happened to us.”

She shakes her head, like she’s clearing her head. “You’re right, we need them here now!” She stands and I watch her swirl her arm, wand in hand, every part of her body taut. “Expecto Patronum!”

Holy crap, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so astonishing. The silver otter danced from the tip of her wand, swirling through the air like it was swimming in water, before diving towards the trees, leaving small threads of silver light. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such pure magic and she leaves me dumbstruck. “Y-your patronus is an otter!” I look up in wonder.

She turns and gives me an exquisite smile. “I always loved otters, my dad took me to Pembrokeshire, we saw them in Bosherston Lakes when I was five, I’ve loved them ever since.”

She plops back down beside me, “What’s yours?”

I frown, there was never a need for me to learn. The Dementors would never choose to attack a pureblood, only those in Azkaban. “I don’t think I ever had enough light inside me to cast one.” I admit.

She looks angry again, “Don’t ever say that to me, you have light, you have it right here.” She rises to her knees, sitting back on her haunches and places her hand over my heart. “When you get your wand back, I’ll show you.”

I reach out and tangle my hand in her hair, drawing her closer, my lips barely touching hers.

“I bloody knew it! I knew they’d be snogging! I told you Harry!” I hear Weasley and Potter arrive, dark wisps of their apparition drifting into the morning sunlight. Potter looks relieved as soon as he spots us both.

“Just like old times, eh, Hermione?”

She’s up on her feet, racing for him before he finishes speaking.

“Harry, this so much worse than we thought! They have people, purebloods, they have them in a camp somewhere, like the Nazis, Percy, he—” She stops, glancing at Ron.

I stalk towards Weasley, urging him to the side of the grove while she begins pulling Potter towards the tent. “Hey, why don’t we go inside and talk.” She nods at me and Potter rubs his hand on his forehead, clearly knowing something bad is about to happen.

Once they’re gone, I begin, this isn’t going to be easy and I may end out sore and bloody if he doesn’t believe me. “Weasley, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but when we left the Manor, your brother tried to kill us earlier, your brother Percy.”

He takes a deep breath, rubbing at his eyebrow with the heel of his hand. “Yeah, I guessed that was going to happen. He was there, at the manor with Robards.” He sighs deeply, “I didn’t believe you before, Malfoy, and I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I believe you, not just because i trust Hermione, I believe you because I saw it with my own eyes.”

This is so surreal I might believe I’m back in first year, and that I hadn’t alienated him.

 

_“No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter.”_

 

“For what it’s worth, Weasley, err, Ron, I’m sorry for the way I treated you at school. I’ve carried the guilt of the way I used to be for years, you never deserved it and Ginny didn’t deserve what my father did to her. Family is everything but sometimes people do things which break you. I’m sorry you drank the poisoned mead, it was never meant for you, and I never truly meant it to get to Dumbledore either. I couldn’t do it in the end, you know that.” Dumbledore, I didn’t want to kill him, I just wanted to go home to my mother and seek solace in her arms, to shut out the world.

Ron looks downcast. “Look,” his blue eyes hold mine, “We were kids then and we aren’t now, your mum is alright, they searched the place but they found nothing,” He chortles, “Your mum and I sat down while Mippy gave me dinner after, decent lady she is, your mum. I think she was afraid but holy shit, Malfoy, she was terrifying when she told them off, she was almost as bad as my mum.”

I let out a guffaw, “You mum killed Bellatrix, ripped her to pieces, I heard afterwards that she was a force to be reckoned with, she killed my aunt who tortured Hermione and I often wonder whether your mother was just protecting Ginny, or whether her vengeance was for Hermione too.”

“Whichever it was, mate, she was fucking awesome, my mum took down the wickedest witch in the Wizarding world after twenty-eight years of being a mum of seven children, she was pregnant through the whole of the first wizarding war, eleven years of it and she bloody fought for the Order in between.” He states proudly.

I look at the ground, hoping who I am now isn’t someone who Ron feels he can’t at least be acquaintances with. I do it for Hermione, but I hope his answer gives me something. His speech about his mother also gives me food for thought, I worried that Hermione would never stop fighting, but then Ron tells me about his tough mother, who always seemed so kind whenever I encountered her and did everything she could do to bring down the Dark Lord, she another of the sacred twenty eight and quite closely related to me. It doesn’t surprise me, as I heard once it took five Death Eaters to kill her two brothers.

“I love her, you know, I’d never hurt her.” I can see by his expression he knows I’m taking about Hermione.

“I heard Harry already gave you the talk.” He grins.

“Yeah, and I’m unarmed, was then too, so if you want your revenge, take it now, but before you do, know she and I have been good for one another other, she has issues and I think me being close helps, I know her being with me helps me more than anything else ever has.”

He looks like he might punch me, but then it passes like a shadow of cloud above.

“Don’t we all? Look, I’m a simple bloke, you treat her well and bring me to the Manor occasionally for a bit of Mippy’s cooking and I’ll be alright. Can’t vouch for Tracey, though.”

“I heard you were with Tracey Davis, decent girl, never went after the likes of me, had more sense. In fact, I always remember her mooning over you in the dining hall.” It’s a lie, but by fuck, it makes him beam and I’m allowed a few white lies, aren’t I?

“Really? I never noticed.”

“It’s lucky you did eventually then, isn’t it?” What the fuck has happened to me? I’m being kind to Weasley now and feel I’ve crossed the damn line. For some reason it doesn’t seem to matter, I’ve avoided getting my head kicked in and we’re on somewhat easier terms.

………..

**Hermione**

“I can’t do this anymore! I just can’t Harry! This is your job, you put yourself in danger every day, but Draco and I, we’re vulnerable in this, he’s not armed and I’m protecting us both!”

He places both hands on my shoulders. “I get it, calm down, I get it.”

“I’m not sure you do, you weren’t there when Percy tried to kill us or take us, or whatever he was there for!” Baxter’s nipping at Harrys ankles and I pick him up, he growls in Harry’s face.

"New friend?"  He reaches out his finger’s, but Baxter bears his incisors, so he swiftly pulls them away. 

I've explained everything that's happened and now is not the time to try to be funny. "He belonged to my neighbour, Draco saved him, I didn't even think of him, that's how bad I felt after someone I trusted, who we trusted glamoured himself and who I found at the end of a kitchen knife because Draco seemed to be the one with any common sense!"

"We've let ourselves slip, I get it, we've become complacent and I'd always hoped Voldemort was the end. I'm not trying to be funny, Hermione, I just hate the fact we're back here again, and I don't mean this place, I sort of liked it here, us being together." He ruffles his hair in frustration. "I just wonder how many times we'll have to go through this, to watch people who were once comrades in the fight turn their backs on us?" 

“But what about the children? Those people who disappeared and who have never been in a position to ask about what happened to their loved ones? This is worse than I even thought, muggles would call these war crimes, the Ministry or the Order would never have allowed this to happen, I’m sure of it and if Kingsley knows, then he must be charged with crimes against the wizarding world and ousted, however much it will hurt to do it.”

“I think we have an answer to the questions we began with, I think Robards and the others are trying to warn you off, because they know questions will be asked if the Death Eaters have been mis-tried, they know the tenacious Hermione Granger will not rest until she’s made things right, and this leaves you in far more danger than I ever thought. They’ve already gone to extreme lengths to get to you and mine and Ron’s role in our Ministry department has been compromised to the point where I know I just want to walk away from the whole mess, to use my time helping you and getting this mess sorted out.”

"I can’t tell you what to do, you know I could just as easily lose my job and end up looking like I’d been a part of this perversion of justice. We need to use the tools we have to put this right.”

“I haven’t heard anything from the unspeakables since and I’m worried involving them is going to be more trouble than its worth. If there are senior officials involved, then who’s to say some of the unspeakables aren’t involved?”

“You did what you thought was right, and that’s all any of us can do now, protect ourselves and get through this until we know we can trust someone, until were certain of the fact.” I move forward and lay my head on Harry’s shoulder. “I just can’t believe that Percy would do this to his family, to us. I know he was always out for himself, he always wanted more at the Ministry, I think he coveted my apprenticeship and I wonder whether that's why he's so desperate to get Robards into power, because he could be next in line for Minister if he is?"

“Perhaps, but it’s not going to happen if we have anything to do with it. What of these camps? If they’ve taken purebloods from their families, they may have been in these places for nearly two years, and how come we never got wind of it? Surely if this amount of people disappeared during the war we’d have noticed?” Harry skulks around the tent, kicking at the wooden edge of the table thoughtfully. "I think our first mission needs to be to find the camp. I'm like you, we have to see it to believe it."

"I agree, but you haven’t told me what happened at Azkaban yet, did anything come to light that could help?" 

"Well, of course it was shit and they didn't want to tell me anything. They did, however, tell me how I was scum, lowest of the low, how they hoped I'd get Dragon pox and die a long painful death. But after a while, they came around. I have signed, written statements from McNair and Malfoy Senior, the other two were half mental and their testimony would never stand up at the wizangamot, even so, they eventually told me what happened to them and it served to make me believe them when they all described the same treatment. They have no contact, they’re all in solitary and the only people they see are guards, assuming Robards hasn’t found a way to get a mole into Azkaban, I’d say they’re being truthful. Of course, Lucius was just as he was the first time we visited, although he didn't treat me like his future daughter in law and regale me with tales of how much in love he was with Narcissa, and I may have been terrified if he did."

Baxter jumps from my arms and rushes to the entrance as Draco and Ron enter, wagging his tail and running around Draco’s feet.

"At least someone likes you then, mate." Ron chuckles, heading for the kitchen like he always did when we were here back in the dark days.

Draco lifts the dog into his arms, and I can't help but smile, I wouldn't have thought he was a dog person, but I know he’s developed a bond with Baxter and he’ll be coming home with us, regardless of how much Crook’s might protest. He peers at the dog’s face, then to mine thoughtfully "I think I might know where it is and why they went to the Manor. The Lestranges owned a farm in Wiltshire for years, and before the war they took muggleborns there for slaughter." I wince and he moves to hold me close. "I'm sorry," he utters in my ear before kissing my temple. "This farm’s been empty since the Dark Lord returned. It made me wonder when Hermione mentioned hiding in plain sight, something you said, Potter. It consisted of several hundred cages for cattle and I have a feeling it could easily be used by Robards for his purposes. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

Harry roots around in his pocket and removes a wand, passing it to Draco. "It belonged to Mrs Figg’s husband, she gave it to me that day we went there, she said she would only give it away to you. I doubt anyone will think to trace it since he was on the Orders side in the first Wizarding war and it's probably considered antiquated, plus he's deceased. Welcome back Draco, just try not to splinch yourself when we apparate, unfortunately, this is 14 inch’ cherrywood and phoenix feather, I don't know whether it'll take to you." 

“Err, thanks Potter.”

I know that was hard to say and I’m grateful when Harry and Ron don’t say anything further. Draco’s looking grave and he rolls the wand in his hand, testing its compliance by bending both ends and then turning it over and looking down its length, much like a remember Garett Olivander doing when I saw him at shell cottage. He walks silently to entrance of the tent, pushing through the flaps and I follow him. 

His eyes are stormy, and I know he’s afraid that using magic is the beginning of a chain of events we won’t be able to stop. The Ministry will know he’s used magic and I suspect they may try to trace him, even though I know my wards here are tight. "I don't know what to do with it first, it's been so long." He has a look in his eye which I would say was hope. 

"Do it, then, cast a Patronus." I urge him.

"It won't work, not for me."

"Well, with that attitude like that, Draco, it probably won't.” He rolls his eyes at my school-marmish tone of voice, glancing at my arms crossed over my chest in full Granger mode. I sometimes forget I do things like this and its odd to be reminded of the strait-laced girl I once was. “Think of your best ever day, the most special and perfect thing that ever happened to you, something you can relive again and again and never get fed up with." I pat his arm and step back, giving him space.

He rolls the wand between his long fingers and I watch as he cricks his neck. I hope I'm right because I have a feeling this will be glorious.

......... 

**Draco**

I'm scared it won't work and I'll look a fool in front of her. I close my eyes and think of the moment I first saw her, the night I saw her peering down at me when I opened my eyes after rescuing her. Pointing the wand outward, I say the words and a few sparks shoot from the tip. "It isn't going to work, I'm not someone who can do this!" I grumble, holding my arms at my side as I was taught to when practicing magic at Hogwarts. It was the first lesson I ever learned, do not point a wand at someone if you’re not using it.

"It will! It will, I promise! It's just the memory you’ve used isn't good enough, it doesn’t make you happy enough! Choose something better, something you never want to forget." She stands on her tip toes and kisses my cheek. "You can do this Draco."

I feel the magic grounded in my toes, my core undulating as it wakes from a long sleep, and I remind myself I've been a wizard all my life. Think, think, I tell myself, what is the best memory? It comes to me like a smack in the gut, causing my magic to fizz and ripple through my chest. "Tell me you love me." I turn to Hermione and take her into my arms, "Tell me you're mine and you want to be with me always, that we'll have a life together and you’ll have my babies, that we'll grow old and be together until the end."

She smiles and that smile could render a man to his knees.

"Draco Malfoy, you don't need me to tell you I'll be yours, I'm always yours and I'll look forward to being with you until the end, it’s a life I want, the one you describe, and I would be honoured to share it with you. I love you and I know I always will."

"I love you and I know I always will." Rattled through my mind as I repeated it over and over.

I turn and speak the spell, falling back onto the ground when, with a huge blast of power, a dragon patronus soars from the tip. Its huge, so much bigger than Hermione’s otter and it splits in two, each dragon gliding against the other, one darkness, one light, surrounded by a flowing constellation of stars. I watch Hermione’s face light up as they swirl around us, her head turning to me as she throws back her head and laughs. 

The vision disappears eventually, and she rolls over, straddling me and snaking her arms around my waist. "I couldn't believe it! That was amazing and so very you!" She snogs me passionately, “I knew you could do it!” 

"It was amazing." Harry says from behind us. "Well done mate." He hands me some chocolate. I have no idea why but take it anyway and stuff it in my mouth, giving Hermione a chocolatey snog as we laugh and roll on the ground until Hermione’s hair is filled with pieces of twig and leaves.

.............

**Hermione**

The excitement of Draco’s Patronus is short lived. We leave the coppice apparating to old Lestrange farm shortly after. Now we know Draco has control of the wand, I hope he'll be alright, we don't have room for mistakes now. We land in a field of long rotten corn husks, their stalks moulding on the ground. It's midday and we're here for recon, all dressed in black hoodies and dark jeans. I can see some decaying outbuildings a few yards away and await Harry's instruction. Its oddly quiet here, like the birds have left, never to return.

Draco nods towards the farmhouse and we convene behind it, knowing we don’t have much time in case Robards is tracking us.

"It's warded with some complicated charms, I can feel the dark magic of the Black family though, I think I can break through. You may own Grimmauld nowadays Potter, but I’m Lord Black now." 

We move on towards the building and stick close to Draco. He stands, his long arms above his head, removing the wards. I expect an attack, but nothing happens, so we move into a compound, wands at the ready, still hearing only silence. I can see the cages and pull my hood down to get a better look. Firstly, I think they're unoccupied, that is, until a stray stone scatters across the concrete at my feet. I see a child's head lift up, she has dark hair, curly like mine and looks to be around eight.

"It's Hermione Granger!" She squeaks, staring right at me, standing and throwing back the dirty blanket she was hiding under. "Peter, it's her, it's really her!" She prods a lump under the blanket and a tiny boy stands at her side, sucking his thumb and ducking behind her, his eyes wide. There's a ripple effect as several children jump to their feet, but cower as they see Draco’s hood, Harry and Ron behind us dressed the same.

"Take it off! They’re afraid, take your hoods down, all of you." I tell them, pulling at the fabric to reveal their faces. 

"Daddy! It's Draco Malfoy and the Golden Trio! Daddy, they've come to save us!" I hear a boy in a cage to the side yell. He reveals a man who's covered in whip marks and looks only half alive.

"Draco, Harry, please!" the man’s delirious, his lips parched. "Please take my son home to his mother." He begs, climbing up to clutch the bars. He's thin and malnourished, that much is clear. 

I rush over, keeping my eyes out for guards, casting a fluvius and urging him to drink, which he does greedily before pushing my hand to the boy beside him. "Sir! We're here to help but you must keep quiet, are there guards here?" 

"Hermione, dear girl," he clasps my fingers, " I'm the last adult here, they'll die, they need you, please get them out, get my son out." The man has robes similar to Professor Snape’s and I wonder if he might have taught at a school for younger pureblood children, perhaps these are his students.

"Are there guards? Where are the people who brought you here?" I ask again.

"T-they left some days ago, we have no food left, no water. I believe they wanted to leave us here to die. The children cry at night, I can't get to them, please take them home, they don't understand. How has this happened? You won, didn't you? The Order won and this isn't a dream? I didn't do anything wrong, I tried to protect them from the Dark Lord in the war and we were taken still. I heard the guards talk about the war ending, they only let me live because the children listen to me and keep quiet."

I squeeze his fingers tightly. "Tell me your name." His grip loosens and he faints, falling back on the blanket. The little boy begins to sob, grasping at his father’s face. “My daddy’s name is Aiden Yaxley, I’m Orrin, please don’t leave us here, you’re Hermione Granger, you’re good.” He breaks down and lays beside his father. I hate to turn away but I rush to the little girl who spoke first, as Draco, Ron and Harry begin to try to release the bars manually, I'm also concerned if we use magic, Robards will know and it will bring ten bells of hell down on us all. "Hello, you recognised me, can you tell me if there's anyone here who might hurt you?" She reaches her tiny fingers for mine and I take them gently. 

"Not now you're here, you're Hermione Granger." 

Tears prickle at my eyes and I suck in a shuddering breath. "What's your name?" I ask, barely stopping myself from breaking down.

"My name is Lily, like Harry Potters mummy, and this is Peter, but he wasn't named after Peter Pettigrew! He was named after my great-grandfather Peter Burke." Peter moves to her side, taking his thumb from his mouth, "You're 'min-nee-gan-ger." he beams. 

"She is, and she's the most beautiful and cleverest witch in the whole world." Draco drops to his knees beside me. "Peter, Lily, now I want you to be very grown up and tell us if you remember anything about the spell’s they used to lock the cages." 

Peter reaches out and touches Draco’s fingers. "Da-co." 

Draco looks at me and I can see he's just as choked up as I am. This boy must hardly know anything else other than living a half-life in a cage. 

"I heard them say it's, um, en-enchanted muggle steel, that's all I heard Hermione Granger, they said only a muggle can open it and they laughed when they said no muggle witch would care enough to save us, because we’re bad, they said we were rotten to the core." Lily says sadly. "But then you came, and I hoped you'd save me and Peter.” She reaches out to hold my fingers, “We're always good, we always do as we we’re told, and we never sneak into the biscuit cupboard at home when mummy tells us not to and eat them until we’re sick. I miss my mummy." Her large green eyes fill with tears and my heart breaks for them. Draco reaches for them both through the cage and tries to soothe them by drawing them closer. I have no doubt these darling children did eat all the biscuits and I’m heartbroken they seem to have made up a story for themselves, reasoning why they’re here. I’m angry now and I bite both lips between my teeth.

"You know what you have to do, Granger, so do it quickly, let’s hope she’s right." He urges. He's calling me Granger to keep me focussed, I realise that.

I try to block out the cries of the other children as I concentrate, it can't be as simple as this, surely? And if it is, then why? I wave my wand over a wide expanse. "Alohomora!" I shout and to my surprise, every single cage door opens, and children flood out, every emotion passing over their faces.

"You clever girl!" I stand, pulling little Lily in for a hug.

“I only did what you did, Hermione, you were brave! I dreamed about you, hoping you’d come, and you did! You did wonderful things, I heard the guards laughing about how and you helped Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord, they said you were a weak woman and they said nasty things about you, but I didn’t listen, because I knew you were never afraid of stupid people like them, they didn’t know I would never believe them because you’re my hero!” Lily smiled and threw herself into my arms.

“I think, Lily, that you’ve been the bravest girl I’ve ever known.” I swallow back tears. I knew people followed Harry, Ron and I and told us we were hero’s but it wasn’t until this tiny girl who’d been through so much had told me how she dreamed of me saving her that I truly believed I’m worthy of the title, even if I only do what decent people should do.

Draco’s rushed to gather together children of all ages, helping Ron and Harry draw them into a group. 

"It's Harry Potter!" One cries out in excitement, "He's come to save us! See, were not evil!" Then I heard another shout, "Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would never save kids who were dirty, nasty purebloods!" Others rushed to Draco, "Draco Malfoy wouldn't be here with Harry Potter if we weren't good, Draco, Draco!" I watch as a group of little ones surround him, hugging him tightly. He looks up in me in horror and I cackle at the sight, surprised as he gathers them to him as best he can in his long arms.

"I don't think the man is doing so well, what was his name? Yaxley? Poor bloke must be a cousin of that prick who was in charge before Robards." Ron whispers with a gaggle of children huddled behind him, his hands filled with tiny ones and child on his shoulders. 

"I've used magic already, I'm not sure if I can levitate him too, I'm worried they'll track us the more we use, and we still need to get everyone back to camp."

"Hermione, I have a bad feeling about this, we need to go." Harry's little gang of ragamuffin’s are clutching at his clothes. He drops to his knees. "We're going on an adventure, now follow me and Draco out to the field over there, we're going camping." 

"What's camping?" They all circle Harry, "Err, it’s like being away from home in a forest and it's really exciting." Some begin to cry and call for home and their mothers.  

Draco tuts loudly and kneels beside Harry, talking to the sobbing kids. "You want to go home to your mothers and fathers, don't you?" He asks, "This is the only way, Harry and I can make that happen, but you must listen to everything we say. The sooner you go the field the faster you get home, alright?"

Harry stands and snorts, "Trust the likes of you to be better with kids than me, Malfoy."

"You can't be good at everything, Potter, perhaps try telling them the truth next time?" 

Harry and Draco grin, corralling the children towards the field.

"I knew we'd end up being the ones to sort this bloke out, is he conscious?" Ron asks, looking at the small boy who won’t leave his father.

“Orrin, will you come with me? Or will you let Ron take you with your daddy to hospital?”

Orrin shakes his head and buries it back in his fathers’ neck.

“He won’t leave with us, Ron, I kept you back because you need to get him to St Mungo’s and stay with him, I know you have an emergency portkey." 

"It's a risk, if Robards finds me—"

"I know it’s dangerous Ron, there's no other option, he'll die, and I hate to say it, but you're less conspicuous turning up there than Harry, the medi-witches are more likely to believe you."

He looks glum but then agrees with a shrug of his shoulders. “That’s the crux of it, Hermione, always the sidekick and never the hero.” He jests.

“You are as brave as any man I know, Harry included, and don’t you forget that, Ron Weasley! And another thing I wanted to say was, um, this thing I have with Draco, it was never about you or Harry, I never wanted either of you to feel bad about it, In fact I wanted us to try to get along. I'm only asking you to do this because it's the right thing to do, if it was better to send Draco or Harry, I would. It’s just you’re the right man for the job right now, you can cover it up, say you found him in the street, then come back to the camp, bring Orrin if you can so we know he’s cared for, and if you can find his mother, make sure she knows to keep quiet until we sort this out. We're counting on you."

He moves to the man and curls an arm around him, "Hermione, try not to get so anxious.” he hugs me tightly, “I never thought you chose them over me, I’m just glad you’re as bloody organised as ever." He drops his arms and gathers father and son in his arms, winking as the key sucks them away.

............

 

**Draco**

I never thought the day would end with me and Potter surrounded by children who were either adoring and asking endless questions or crying for their mothers. We began apparating them to the camp in small groups but instantly found they were all sobbing not to be left or vomiting from the travel method as we went back for the next group. I met Potter before he appararated from the farm. "Someone has to stay with the children before they become hysterical. I vote you. Potter."

"Are you completely mad?" His eyes are wide and terrified.

"They love you, aren't you the saviour of the wizarding world?" I feel the corners of my lips twitch.

"I'm going to kill you, Malfoy." He took the next lot and appararated. I have three children left as I watch Hermione run towards me, alone. 

"Did you find anything in the outhouses?" 

"No, the place is clear, I saw some tables and an old pack of dirty cards, you now, the ones with witches showing their, um, parts.” She blushes and I try not to laugh out loud.

………..

**Hermione**

“Ron’s taken the Yaxley father and son to St Mungo’s, he'll return if he can. You two did well with the little ones." I lay my head on his shoulder, my ovaries in danger of exploding at the sight on him with tiny blonde haired boy in his arms, the child's arms wrapped around his neck, while holding the hands of two, who I think may be aged around five and seem overly excited to be with him. I'm startled as I hear a shout of anger from the farm.

"Shit! Let's go!" Draco flings a child into my arms and we apparate, holding hands.

It's chaos at the camp, with vomit everywhere and I find Harry rushing around trying to see to them all.

"That's enough now." Draco doesn't shout, but he's commanding. I bite my lip, yep, ovaries definitely throbbing here. 

"Don’t be afraid, we need some order so we can get you all settled in and fed, so no more running around like crazed Billywigs. Hermione is going to count you into groups, she'll touch your head the first group she touches will be group one, they'll come and sit with me. The second will sit with Harry and third with Hermione. The forth group however—" he lets out a piercing wolf-whistle and Baxter comes running into the tent, "the forth group will be with Baxter and Ron when he returns from his dangerous mission,” he glances at me and I see a twinkle in his eye, “and let me tell you, Baxter here feels like you, a bit scared and lost, so he'll need plenty of cuddles."

The children wait with bated breath to find out if they're with Baxter. The dog seems to know he's very important to the sorting process and sits and waits patiently. I don't know what to say, my boyfriend is so perfect with the children I want to gather him up in my arms and snog him senseless. Once the children are sorted, they look at the group with Baxter in disappointment, so Draco speaks up once more. "Oh, one thing I forgot, if you're good and get ready for bed, Hermione and Harry will tell you about the time they rode the dragon out of Gringotts."

Harry sighs and shoots him a look but the children all whoop in excitement, chattering and lining up as they await instruction. That, I think, is how you deal with a bunch of terrified children, and I know Draco did it because he knows how it feels to be in their position.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, things were awful for our little band of heroes in the last chapter, but as dark as things may be, they managed to undertake a rescue. Thanks for your comments and kudos everyone, I love to hear from you.   
> Huge thanks as always to the wonderful badwolfjedi, beta extraordinaire, for her work on this chapter.

 

**Hermione**

It’s been a hellish few days and I wake to small children staring at me. I squeeze my eyelids together, blinking and wondering if the fearful, saucer like eyes of the children in our care will still be there when I open them again, or whether it was all just a nightmare that never happened. Yep, they’re there, and hungry if the growling sounds in their bellies are anything to go by. So, I guess I feed them first and then we begin to make plans about what to do with them next. They certainly can’t stay here, and they can’t go home just yet, it’ll arouse too much suspicion while we have Robards on our tail, and they could be in just as much danger.

“Hermione, they won’t let me sleep.” Ron’s complaining. I feel sorry for him, as he didn’t return until after midnight from St. Mungo’s and ended up taking Baxter for a walk before he finally managed to bed down for the night, creeping into his bed over a gaggle of children who we had on small camp beds dotted around the place. Aiden Yaxley survived, barely, Ron told us, and his young son stayed by his side, cared for by medi-witches and sworn to secrecy for the time being.

“No rest for the wicked, eh, mate?” Harry claps him on the shoulder, looking far perkier than I.

“Sorry Ron, sleep is for the weak.” I grumble, pouring the children glasses of juice. I used the Gemino curse to create enough cups, plates and cutlery for all of us. At last count, there were 44 of us altogether, spilt into four groups. Setting bacon and eggs cooking magically, I pour Harry and Ron a cup of coffee, while drinking mine down and swiftly pouring myself another, the liquid burning my throat.

“Ah, muggle caffeine, nectar of the gods.” Ron takes his drink and looks a little brighter as he eyes the sizzling bacon. There’s one thing you can say about Ron Weasley, the way to his heart is through his stomach.

I feel a pair of arms slide around my waist and Draco nuzzles the back of my neck. “Morning, gorgeous.” He leans to kiss my cheek.

“Merlin, someone get me a sick bucket.” Ron pales but then chuckles, noting Harry is sticking his fore and middle finger in his mouth, gesturing at vomiting.

“Hey!” I slap them both in quick succession, “It’s not like I’ve never had to look at you two snogging like your faces were being sucked off, is it?”

I feel a tug on my sleeve and a tiny brunette-haired boy from Draco’s group is looking up at me with wide eyes. “Miss Hermione, what’s snogging?” He asks.

Um, shit, well, how the hell do you explain that to a five-year-old?

“Never you mind, Fennel, all you need to worry about is getting up to the table for breakfast.” Draco glances at me with twinkling eyes and I thank the gods he was here to answer on my behalf. Merlin, he’s sexy when he winks at me. I drift away for a moment, staring at him, but then the scent of burning bacon hits my nostrils. “Oh, shit!”

Moments later I hear a group of children beginning to repeat my curse, dancing around the room, “Shit, shit, shit!”

I look to Draco and he smirks, turning swiftly. “This is not the behaviour I expect from you. Hermione said something about ships, I think you may have misheard. Now sit up to the table and be good while your breakfast is served.”

Thank fuck for a quick-thinking Draco. Ron and Harry are snickering behind their hands while I’m rescuing the bacon.

“What should not be heard by little ears, should not be said by big mouths, mum always said.” Ron grimaces at my cutting look upon finishing that sentence.

Draco returns, “What can I do?”

“Oh, pour some juice for the kids and keep these two under control.” I eye Harry and Ron and they gesticulate at Draco like he’s sucking up to me. Baxter rushes around my ankles. “Ronald, your fellow bed mate needs feeding.” I grin.

Ron stomps to the dog food and dollops it into a bowl for the hungry mutt with a scowl on his face. “How come its my job?” He sulks.

“Because Harry is going to contact Mrs Figg, we need someone to care for the children and she will know somewhere safe we can take them.” I answer primly.

“What? Hermione.” Harry groans, “I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep.”

“Harry James Potter, you have responsibilities and you’ll do what needs to be done!” Oh, lord, I’m back in Hogwarts Hermione mode, hands on hips, the lot. I point a spatula venomously at Harry, and he blanches.

Draco raises his eyebrows as I glance at him. “Perhaps we’ll just have breakfast first.” He takes the threatening spatula from my hand and pokes at the eggs with it, grabbing my waist and pulling me under his arm, planting a sweet kiss on my brow. “Salazar, you lot are the grumpiest people I’ve ever met when you don’t get a full eight hours, this isn’t the time to snipe at each other when little ears are listening, especially when they see you all as their heroes.”

I glance behind us and some of the children look tearful. I’d forgotten they were here and feel terrible about it. I take a deep breath and clap my hands. “Now, just ignore us, we’ve got a fabulous breakfast to have and I want to see every last scrap eaten.” I portray my inner Molly Weasley and they cheer up instantly as I sit with them at the table I extended. They begin to chatter, asking me questions as Draco, Harry and Ron peer at the plates and the frying pan, trying to work out if the food is ready. I start to laugh, and the children join me, its one of the funniest sights I’ve ever seen, the perplexed trio have no idea what they’re doing.

 

**Draco**

“Just let me do it!” I hiss, holding the spatula above my head so the two cretins can’t intervene. The eggs are burning and I’m swiftly losing my temper.

“They’re not going to believe we can look after them if we serve these black eggs!” Harry whispers, “You must’ve heard the spell your mum used to make breakfast, Ron?”

“Oh, come on, Harry, you know how cranky I am in the morning, I don’t even look up until Errol arrives, I just shovel the food in my mouth, once it’s put before me.” Ron admits.

A little boy tugs at my trousers and I peer down, realising its Peter, the tiny brother of Lily. “Lily said to use coquus, she said our mummy uses it.” He says, far too conspiratorially for a little kid. I look up and Potter and Weasley are attempting to scrub at the pan. They haven’t heard and I’m about to look like a superstar!

Immediately, I create the spell, and everything begins cooking with gusto, I watch the burned food dissipate and a fabulous meal begin to cook in the pan, rising into the air, along with plates and napkins which land before the ravenous children. There’s something so satisfying about using a wand again, and I can’t tell you how gratifying it is to get one over on those two. It’s a bit like old times.

Peter runs back to the table as the children get their meals and I wink at Lily, my eyes drifting to Hermione, who’s shocked by the fact we’ve done it without her, and better I’d wager. She allows a napkin to float into her lap with astonishment, and her eyes roll back in the most delightful way when she takes her first bite. I turn back to Potter and Weasley, “I’ve got this under control.” I smirk.

“Malfoy, I still hate you, even if I don’t hate you so much nowadays!” Ron squawks, laughing as he heads to find a space at the table.

“Your secrets safe with me.” Harry hints that he knows whats happened, ever the observant Auror, before he follows Weasley. He pauses behind me, “Although, she’ll expect this every morning for the rest of your lives.” He jeers.

Yeah, and I’ll do it for my girl forever, now I know how to do it.

 

**Hermione**

“Right, everyone into your groups…Martin what are you doing to Harry? Leave his hair alone and find a buddy to hold hands with.” I call over in exasperation. Some of the children have become bored and become a bit boisterous.

The plan we made over breakfast was to apparate the children to Mrs Figgs and house them in Harry’s old house, warded and under their care, along with Ron as their guardian while we sorted out what to do next. Harry knew the magic that shielded Grimmauld Place and decided he would try to use that glamour to shield the whereabouts of the house on Privet Drive. He had already apparated over to the Figg’s during the morning to explain the situation, returning to his house to set up bunk beds in the three bedrooms and set up a room for the Figgs in the conservatory. It had been a squeeze, but better than keeping the children indefinitely in the Forest of Dean. Ron had offered to guard the house and care for Baxter too, without being asked, I think he’s taken his responsibilities to the children as seriously as Draco. Harry had also created an escape tunnel to the Figg’s house to make it easier for Mrs Figg to walk over and feed her cats.

Harry was all for storming into Kingsley’s office and asking him outright what he knew, but I know it would take Polyjuice to enter the Ministry and I’d need time to brew it for the three of us. Taking Draco into the Ministry was a risk, but we needed his testimony for Kingsley just in case it turned out he knew nothing of the situation. Look, I don’t believe much in organised religion, I’m more scientifically minded, but even I’m praying Kingsley isn’t involved. He’s been like a father figure and mentor to me, during the war and after, and I just find it hard to believe a man with such integrity might attempt to hide something like this. It would have taken an awful lot of effort on his part, as I was in almost every meeting with him since the beginning of my apprenticeship, which began alongside his Ministerial duties. I attended all Ministry functions and even personal lunches with friends and other members of the Order. If he was hiding something, surely, I’d know about it?

I leave the children to be entertained by the others. Ron and Harry are showing the children some of the Weasley Wizarding tricks, while Draco sits on a log, surrounded by children, telling them about Quidditch as they eagerly hang on his every word. I take down the tent and clear the camp alone, beginning to remove the protective wards. The boys asked if I needed any help, but I prefer to do it alone, and if I’m honest I need a few moments peace from the incessant questions from the children. Being here with them has certainly given me an in-depth glimpse at what it might be like to be as parent of young children, albeit on a larger scale, and I can’t believe how patient the others seem to be with them, Draco in particular. I find it odd because he was an only child. Saying that though, Draco always did love a captive audience and I rarely saw him alone at school. I chuckle to myself at that thought.

A shudder of anxiety races through me. How could someone treat these children in this way? Like they were no more worthy to be cherished or cared for than other non-pureblood children. Leaving them trapped in cages, like pieces of meat, without their parents or the proper medical care is cruelty on a colossal scale. It’s just so wrong, and I don’t want to live in a world that would do this to children so young they don’t understand why they’re even there, incarcerated by some trumped up official who thinks he is better than the Ministry, that his vision for the wizarding world is better than the witches and wizards who put their trust in leadership. Things are going to have to change for once and for all, I’ve been thinking for some time. The way the Minister is elected is not particularly democratic and this world needs similar choices to those the muggle world offers.

Having taken some time to think, I realise that these children are our future and they need to be taught the history of the wizarding war’s in full detail to ensure they don’t allow it to happen again. I add this to my mental checklist, which by now, is looking rather full of unchecked squares. This makes me feel a little impatient, but I remind myself there is nothing I can do about it at this moment. I use this technique to remember everything I need to review, its always been a memory tool of mine, ever since before I started Hogwarts and has worked for me thus far.

There’s a muggle saying, ‘Those who do not learn from History are doomed to repeat it’ and I fear we have somehow been the ones who’ve allowed History to repeat itself in this way, with these poor children, plus countless others, suffering for it. I try to shake off the terrible feeling inside, reminding me of what might’ve happened to those poor souls if we hadn’t found them, or if Draco hadn’t been so intuitive and remembered about the Lestrange farm. When this is over, I want to go back and burn the place to the ground, to mangle every last cage and ensure it can never be used for such atrocious crimes again.

My PTSD often fogs my brain and I feel like Bellatrix is always hiding around a corner, waiting to spring something else on me, hiding in the deepest recesses of my mind, just waiting to attack me. I know she’s gone, I saw Molly kill her with my own eyes, but what’s happened here is an indication that I will never be able to rid myself of the wicked bitch, that she’ll always crop up in conversation or I’ll always find out something new that she did to some poor unsuspecting muggle or wizard. My dreams are filled with her, not Voldemort strangely, and I know the habits I’ve picked up to deal with all that happened are likely to be my downfall if I don’t address them. I wipe away a tear with the back of my hand, feeling a presence behind me. It’s Harry, ever the perceptive, checking on me.

“You’re crying.” He speaks softly.

“A little. I don’t know why I feel this way, I don’t know if it’s the remanence of the Horcrux we lived with, or just the reminders of everything that happened while we were here. I just feelsad. I’m upset about that because you know I came here with my parent’s; this place just holds bittersweet memories.” I speak out loud without turning.

He pauses, obviously taking in what I’ve said. “I have to say, I was surprised you came here at all, you know, when I got your Patronus. This was the last place I expected you’d go.”

I sigh deeply. “I had to make a snap decision, the police were coming, and I needed somewhere familiar where I knew I could protect us.”

He moves to behind me, taking my shoulder and turning me around so I’m facing him. “You did what was right at the time, you always do what’s right, Hermione, that’s why it hurts you so deeply when you’re given another reason to believe the world is not the place you thought it was. I get it, I get how we tried to rid ourselves of the pain and suffering we saw, that’s how our attention shifted, we concentrated on ourselves for a time and it’s how this happened again, right under our noses.”

“Yes, and I don’t doubt Robards is as power-crazed and megalomaniacal as Voldemort.” I laugh cynically. “Hiding in plain sight, you’ve said it a thousand times, and that bastard even managed to get one over on you by using that exact tactic.”

Harry bites his lips together, his eyes flashing with annoyance. I know Harry does this when he’s trying to control his temper. “Hermione, I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from wringing the bastard’s neck! The fact he almost killed you cuts so deep I don’t know how to deal with it. All I keep thinking is, what if I’d lost my best friend, my Hermione?”

He’s blinking his eyes rapidly and I know he’s struggling with emotion, so I wrap my arms around him, snuggling into his chest. “I’m okay, we’re okay and we have each other’s backs. Draco’s armed now so that’ll help, we just need to find that strength inside us to do this once more—to save the wizarding world just that one more time.” We hug fiercely and then he lets me go, turning back to the children.

“I suppose we’d better start apparating the children to the safe house, it’ll take some time to clear up the vomit.” He smirks.

I nod as he leaves. I thank Merlin for Harry. He’s been the best friend I could ever have, and I love him for it.

…….

**Draco**

“Pick a bed in this room and just sit on it for now, until we get the others here safely. Mrs Figg, and Chris here, will be keeping an eye on you, so don’t misbehave. I know its boring, but its just for a little while. Whoever behaves the best gets to have Baxter sleep on their bed tonight.”

The children all begin to whisper excitedly from the beds they’ve chosen, and I feel a tug on my sleeve. A little mousy girl aged around five, who I think is called Modesty, whispers up at me. I can’t hear her, so I sink to my knees until I’m face to face with her.

“M-Mr. Draco, when will I see my mummy again?” She speaks lowly, before shoving her thumb in her mouth, hugging a ragged bear to her chest.

Her eyes are filled with tears and I sit back on my haunches, lifting her tiny and malnourished body to sit on my knee. “I know this part is hard, but you’ll be here a few days while we sort a few things out, sweetheart. I promise we’ll get you home to your mother as soon as we can.”

She nods tearfully, reaching out and placing her small arms around my neck. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Malfoy.” She mutters.

I pull her close briefly, choking up as this small girl thanks me for rescuing her, something I’d never thought I’d be in a position to do. I’ve never experienced being the hero and I now understand why Hermione keeps throwing herself into danger to save people, there’s a very satisfying feeling connected with it. “It’s a pleasure, little dove, now off you go, find your bed.”

As I leave, I hear the children whining to Chris about wanting the top bunk and wonder how my friend is likely to cope with all these kids. He looks up at me with terror filled eyes. I snigger to myself and apparate away.

 

**Hermione**

“That’s the last of them.” Harry informs me as he pops back into the copse, which is now empty.

Draco, Harry and Ron had been taking children in groups of three to Privet Drive for the past hour and I’m just removing the last of the wards, intending to apparate immediately. Distracted by Harry, I turn. “Were there tears and vomit?” I smile.

“Not this time, they’re resilient little things, kids.” He stops on a grin, his face dropping as he stares over my shoulder.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” I follow his eyes only as I feel a wand placed squarely in the centre of my back. I stand perfectly still and look at Harry, not daring to turn in case whoever it is finds themselves a bit trigger happy.

“Did you think you could outrun us forever, Granger?” A voice I recognise as Robards hisses in my ear. “We’ve been waiting for you to show yourselves, the rest told me you’d never drop the ball, not the bookishly intelligent Hermione Granger. Yet here you are, large as life and twice as stupid. And Potter, well, well, I can’t say I expected any more from you, rushing off like the knight in shining armour to rescue your little friend.” He sneers. “Now, where’s Malfoy? I know he’s been here!”

“Who?” Harry makes out he doesn’t know what Robards is talking about. I watch Harry’s jaw tense as he grinds his teeth together.

“Don’t try my patience, boy. You may be a hero in the eyes of the current ministry, but to me you’re just another runt with an agenda.”

“He isn’t here.” I state firmly. I don’t know what else to say.

“Yes,” He sounds irritated, “I can see that, because I’m clearly not as idiotic as you, Granger, but where is he? Perhaps, if I use the killing curse on Miss Granger, then you may be more inclined to tell me the truth, Potter?”

“Robards,” Harry pleads, “just take a moment to think. If you kill Hermione, you’ll have killed the poster girl for your very first campaign as Minister.” Harry’s thinking on his feet as always.

“Go on.” His voice sounds intrigued, even if I still can’t see his expressions.

“You want the bloodlines mixed; you want the opposite of what Voldemort wanted. Who better as your campaign manager, as the brilliant and very muggleborn Hermione Granger?” Harry is doing his best to lead the conversation from my death, but I doubt it’ll happen. I’ve seen how Robards works, and he’s nothing if not single minded and he’s probably just humouring us.

“No, but sir! You said I was to take on that role as your assistant!” I hear Percy whine.

“Shut up, foolish pureblood!” Robards yells, his hand shaking with fury. “Potter, you always were to bloody nosy for your own good, I should’ve known you’d figure all this out, especially with this one’s help. Dear Merlin, have mercy, my plan is foiled.” He drones sarcastically. “Or perhaps not. Take them into custody, in solitary confinement!” he barks, shoving me. I can only assume there are others, as I haven’t dared turn or move, only to push my wand into my sleeve and mutter a disillusionment charm on it.

“Why are you doing this Robards?” Harry continues, “What makes you think we wouldn’t want to be part of this new model government? I’m a half-blood, Hermione’s muggleborn and Ron supported the purebloods involved in the war getting the kiss after the war, at least at first. Didn’t you think we could be swayed?”

Robards forges forward and grabs Harry by the lapels. I see him now, he looks like he hasn’t slept for weeks, he’s wearing dirty robes and days-worth of stubble. I can smell his acrid breath from here. “I’m not stupid by any means, Potter. In fact, I know everything you’ve done, right down to coming here to protect the Malfoy heir. She!” He turns to me and gives me a look of contempt, his pointer finger almost in my face. “She is in a relationship with Malfoy! The last person on earth who I ever suspected would make any effort to protect him. It’s sickening that she would lower herself to become a pureblood whore! Do you think I would have her anywhere near me, let alone to allow her to run my campaign? I wish she’d died on the floor of Malfoy manor; I wish Lestrange ended her right then so you wouldn’t have the precious brains to your outfit. I wish—”

“I suggest you don’t say another word to my girlfriend, you contemptuous piece of shit!”

I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life as Draco and Ron appear across the clearing. In seconds Draco sends his Dragon Patronus high into the air, and it roars as it heads directly for Robards and his men.

“Get down!” Harry grabs the cuff of my jacket and we roll to the floor, grabbing for our wands and working in unison to shoot stupefies at the others.

Draco lunges forward and sends a myriad of hexes and spells in their direction which, in their surprise, they struggle to hold back.

“You bastard Percy!” Ron’s chasing his brother with his wand held high. “How could you do this to us?” He’s screaming as Percy runs through the bushes and I shield us all as best I can from the counter-curses Robards dark figures are flinging back at us.

Draco has Robards in his sights, and its clear to see what an accomplished fighter he’d become during the war. The man was on the ground, scrambling away from his attacker as Draco reached him, standing above him. I see Draco trembling with anger, a stony look set on his face. “I should kill you for this, I couldn’t give a shit what you’ve done to me, I’ll live, but when you try to kill her, then you’ve seriously crossed the line.”

Robards face is covered with blood, but he still shouts back, “So you think you’re different, Malfoy? You watched her tortured on the floor of your house and you let it happen, where was your bravado then? Where were your balls to step in and save the muggleborn bitch? Mudblood! Isn’t that what your aunt carved into her arm while she screamed, and writhed in agony? You’re nothing but a washed-up Death Eater using her to make people feel sorry for you, to make them think you’ve changed, that you’d have to have changed for the golden girl to want you at all. I know your game, Malfoy, she means no more to you now than she did when you allowed her suffering in Malfoy Manor!”

Draco’s demeanour is stiff, his face slipping into a hard and unreadable mask, his wand trained on Robards.

“Draco!” I call desperately, “Draco, don’t, please don’t!” I know whats going through his mind as Robards baits him, and it would be so easy for him to use the dark curses, giving him a one-way trip to Azkaban as he was still under probation.

I know he hears me, as he relaxes his shoulders, letting out a shuddering breath. “Incarcerous!” I watch as binding ropes slide around Robards like a boa constrictor.

“Stupefy!” I take my eyes from Draco and hit a man square in the chest who was about to reach Draco, and he turns and looks back at me with love and appreciation in his eyes. “Expelliarmus!” I cry, disarming another. It seems things are still under control and all the men are bound as Harry works to secure them. Ron still hasn’t returned, and I rush in the direction he was headed in, followed swiftly by Draco who grabs my hand and pulls me a little closer to walk beside him. Harry stays with the prisoners, stalking over them like a sentry as they lay, bound on the forest floor.

We hear shouting voices in the distance.

“Just do it! I can’t face them now I’ve failed!” Percy cries out.

We hang back, for a moment. Ron has both their wands and is sobbing in agony at the situation he’s been put in. I’d rather one of us dealt with Percy, but there’s no telling Ron that now.

“You can’t face them because you’ve failed?” Ron screams, “You shouldn’t have been able to face them if you’d managed to put that arsehole in power! Sweet Circe, how can you live with yourself? We had peace, and we lost our brother Fred getting it, Percy! You’ve destroyed it and yourself because you’re a greedy, self-centred wanker! Do you see what position you’ve put me in? Your own brother! I want to believe there’s some good left in you, but do you know what? I know you’re rotten— rotten to the sodding core, just like that prick Robards and his other cronies!”

I realise now that Percy’s bleeding from a wound below his eye, Ron’s obviously laid into him already.

“Its about her! Hermione! It’s always been about her! She’s taken up with that disgusting Death Eater! How can you stand to look at her knowing she’s shagging — that? She was meant to join our family, I made guarantees to Robards that she’d breed with one of us. I even thought about putting her under the imperious and impregnating her myself, but I knew I wouldn’t get away with it, knowing you meddlesome lot. So, I planned to encourage Charlie by telling him how she was always talking about how gorgeous he was. After I knew they kissed last year I wanted to push them together, it wouldn’t have taken much if that piece of shite hadn’t come along,” Percy nods towards Draco, “You saw how Charlie was with her last week!”

“Don’t you say another word about her!” Ron holds the wands to Percy’s cheek, causing a deep indentation. “She’s a better person than you’ll ever be, whether she’s with Malfoy or not. And another thing, Malfoy is my friend now too, so get over it! If I can, then you can! I’ve grown up enough to see the world isn’t as black and bloody white as we thought it is. The war is over, Perce! And you’ve lost at whatever bloody coup you had planned, along with any pissing respect you had from your family!”

There’s an orange flash and several people apparate into the thicket. Draco holds my hand tightly once we realise the Unspeakables have finally arrived.

A tall man arrives a few yards away, with long sandy blonde hair and a kindly face. He stalks towards Draco and I, removing his gloves and holding out his hand for us to shake. “Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, my name is Unspeakable Witney and I’m sorry we’re late. Miss Granger here made it more difficult to find you than we’d anticipated. We had to investigate Mr. Potters claims before we could officially step in, but we have had Robards under surveillance for some time. It was only when he said the banned word, mudblood, that we zoned in on his location. I can only apologise for that.”

Draco tuts and lets out a deep outgoing breath. “Just arrest that one, before his brother does something he regrets.”

Unspeakable Whitney turns to the female colleague at his side and nods. The brunette turns her stern stare on Percy as she approaches them and touches Ron’s shoulder lightly, saying something I can’t hear.

“You’ll regret this! We’ll find a way to get to you, and when we do, we’ll kill all of you!” Percy screams as he’s magically bound in shackles and whisked away.

I rush to Ron, who’s ashen and sweating, his face downcast as he runs his hands through his hair miserably. Taking him into my arms I hug him tightly. “I’m sorry Ron, I’m so sorry. He’s your older brother, you should never have had to do that.”

“Why did he do it?” I look up into his bright blue eyes and watch the tears roll down his cheeks, “How could he? I-I have to tell my mum, Hermione, and you know she’s barely getting through each day without Fred.”

I lift a hand and place it on his cheek, “I’ll help you, perhaps it might help if we tell your dad first? He’ll advise us on the best way to broach it. I’m sorry Ron, but it must be done later today, in case the Prophet get wind of this somehow. It would be awful for them to find out in any other way.”

“I know, you’re right, but we have to see to the kids first, I wont rest easy until they’re safely back with their parents.” I know he won’t, none of us will, because they’re our responsibility and they have been since we released them.

Draco has moved towards us and claps Ron on the back. “We’ll make sure the children are safe, mate, we’ll make it a priority.” Draco’s words seem poignant and I think the fact Ron told his brother that he considered Draco a friend had a big impact on them both. I can’t help but smile to see my boys getting on. They may never do anything more than tolerate each other, but only time will tell as they’ve already both proven to be deeper than I suspected.

Unspeakable Whitney returns to us with Harry in tow, the pair in deep conversation. Harry looks tired and I wonder if I look the same, I just don’t seem to cope as well as I did a few years back and neither does Harry. The war has exhausted us.

“Unspeakable Whitney, I know you’ll need to take statements from us and we’re perfectly happy to do that later, but we have forty magical children secured at a house in muggle Surrey. We need to get them back to their parents.” I inform him.

“Yes, Mr. Potter has filled us in on what you’ve been doing. I have informed him that the Minister for Magic submitted to interrogation this morning under Veritaserum and knows nothing of the situation with the children or with Robards, nor his actions during the war. He has some scarring in his mind where we fear he perhaps may have been obliviated. The only conclusion we can come to is perhaps he may have found something out at one time or another, but those memories are now irretrievable.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I think I would’ve been devastated if Kingsley had been involved.

“Further to that,” Whitney continues, “We have sent an Unspeakable to Mrs Figg to take down the information you have on the children. Harry has asked me to keep them all together until they can be collected by their parents, which I think is very wise, they have been upset enough already. We cannot ascertain whether any of their parents died during the war at this point, but we will ensure you know everything we find. Aiden Yaxley and his son are doing well in St. Mungo’s and the Minister himself has gone to the house in Surrey to ensure the process runs smoothly. He’s taken Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones with him. They are experienced in re-placing people, after their assistance with the Dursleys a few years back and many other families they’ve assisted during troubled times.”

“I’d like to see the children and let them know they’re safe. It’s fine sending the Minister and these people, but they don’t know them, they barely know Mrs Figg and Chris.” Draco speaks up, pulling me in front of him, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my crown. “I’m sure they’d be happy to see us, even for a little while. Also, my dog is at the house.”

Whitney nods in understanding. “I’ll need to see you all by four o’ clock,” He turns to Ron. “Mr. Weasley, may I request you don’t speak a word of this to your parents until we have had a debrief and opportunity to speak with your brother?”

Sorrow passes over Ron’s face like a cloud, but he squares his shoulders professionally. “Of course. I’ll wait until you give me the go-ahead.”

“The whole Auror department has been suspended and have been locked down, pending an inquiry.” Harry informs us. “Kingsley has arranged for a team to be sent from wizarding Paris to cover us in the meantime and the Wizangamot is on standby for trials which may begin as early as tomorrow.”

I stare at my feet, deep in thought. Somehow, we’ve brought this insurrection to a swift end without full-blown wizarding war breaking out, but the aftermath is going to be arduous and challenging.

I feel Draco tug at my hand, turning me in his arms and tilting my chin, before placing a sweet kiss on my lips. My eyes flutter closed, and I open them to find him watching me curiously.

“Thank you.” He leans forward and murmurs, his voice humming against my cheek. “I’m not sure what I was about to do until I heard your voice. What he said—”

“What he said is irrelevant, what he talked of is in the past, it’s no longer us and you’re not that person anymore. Look at all you’ve done here, how those children loved you from the moment they saw you, just like I love you.” I reach up and caress his cheek with my fingertips. “The past is the past and I won’t let it destroy our future together. Only we know what this is between us, Draco, only us.”

He leans his forehead down to touch mine, lifting my knuckles to plant a tender kiss on them. It may have been one of the worst days I’ve experienced but being here with him soothes me. Whatever we must face, we’ll face together, along with my best friends who’ve found a way to accept him into their lives, with their big hearts not quite absolving him of his sins but still endeavouring to understand how magic and goodness can also be found in the grey.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and Kudos, its always so great to hear from you all.  
> Huge thanks to the amazing @badwolfjedi for her beta work <3  
> You might need some tissues for this chapter...

**Hermione**

We arrive at Privet Drive to see Kingsley surrounded by tearful children, all sitting on the floor of the lounge telling their details to the adults, some are so young they can only tell their first name, with no idea of where they live or what their parents names are.

I find myself with arms filled with sobbing little ones as soon as they see me, and they rush to Harry, Ron and Draco as soon as they see them in the hall behind me. Baxter is whining at Draco’s feet, obviously upset at being left by his new owner and he crouches down to ruffle his ears.

“Hush now,” I tell the little one’s hugging my legs, “this is a time to remember how important you are. Kingsley and the others are here to help you, don’t be afraid to tell them what you know.”

I see Lily hanging back with her brother hiding behind her. The little girl’s lip is wobbling, like she’d like to join the throngs of children seeking comfort from us but is holding something back.

“Now, I think its time to make you all hot chocolate and we’ll see if we can’t rustle up some marshmallows and biscuits to go with it.” This rouses a cheer and I walk to Draco briefly. “Could you manage that? You did so well with the breakfast this morning.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He kisses my crown and shoots me a knowing look as Lily and her brother stand well away from everyone else. I kneel before the two children, holding my arms out and they rush forward desperately.

“I have something to tell you, Miss. Hermione, I’m sorry, I’ve been bad, and I didn’t tell you everything.” Lily’s voice is muffled as I hug her.

I lean back and smooth her hair away from her face. “Nothing you could tell me would ever convince me that you’re a bad girl, Lily, you’re a brave girl and you can tell me anything.”

I hug Peter close and look to Mrs Figg, who’s loitering in the doorway. “Peter, do you think you could be a very helpful boy and show Mrs Figg how you and Lily like your hot chocolate?”

His eyes are wide when he looks to Lily for confirmation that it’s okay to go with Mrs Figg. Lily nods and gives him a watery smile.

“Now,” I sit on the floor and urge Lily to sit on my lap, rubbing soothing circles on her back with my palm, “why don’t you tell me whats made you so upset?”

She shakes her head frantically and I know she’s finding it difficult to tell me what she knows. “If I say it, it’ll mean its true!” She chokes out on a sob.

“Its alright, I’m here and you take your time, I have all the time in the world until you’re ready, sweetheart.”

I look up at Kingsley, he looks ten years older than he did when I last saw him. I know it would’ve been all too easy for him to appoint people to deal with this matter on his behalf, but he’s not that man, he never has been, he feels responsible, I know it. He’s kind to the core and I wouldn’t expect any less of him. He comes and sits cross legged before us, and Lily buries her head in my neck. I feel her tears soak into my shirt.

“Lily, we want to take you back to your family. You said you had a mother? Do you have any idea where we can find her?” Kingsley speaks gently.

“She’s dead!” Lily lifts her head and bursts into tears. I swiftly cast a muffliato, in case Peter or the others hear, after all, the kitchen is barely separate from the lounge.

“What makes you think that sweetheart? You told me the last thing you remember is her telling you off for eating biscuits?” I hold her to me, her small chest hitching with emotion.

“She told us off before the men came, it was dinner time and we’d eaten them all. Then there was a banging on the door, and she looked afraid, she told us to hide under our beds. I heard lots of noise and shouting and then they found us, they took us away but mummy didn’t try to stop them, she would never let them take us, not strangers, she always told us not to open the door to strangers and she must be dead, she would’ve stopped them, she loves us!” She shrieks, pain and fury a child of that age shouldn’t experience reflected in her watery eyes.

“Lily listen to me,” Kingsley began, “we don’t know that she’s dead, they may have stopped her from coming for you. I’m going to find her now, myself, can you tell me anything about her at all? Or where you live?”

Lily gulps back tears. “I don’t know what mummy’s name is, but she called Peter’s daddy by his name when he came, she called him Sirius. My daddy’s name is John, but he left us a long time ago.”

My heart jumps into my throat. Surely it couldn’t be our Sirius? If it is the concept, he had a son and a hidden family that none of knew about is hard to get my head around. I can’t contain my gasp of surprise.

“OK, dearest one, that’s a start, now can you tell me where you live? Anything at all?” Kingsley probes delicately.

“I can’t say it, but I think I can write it down?” She snuffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Hestia quickly passes us some paper and a pencil, and I watch in horror as she slowly writes out the number 6, Grimmauld Place.

My hearts beating ninety to the dozen, not only is the children’s house almost on Harry’s doorstep, but Peter is directly related to Draco, Narcissa and Andromeda.

We sit for a few moments longer, soothing the girl and I rock her gently. “You’ve been so brave,” I whisper, “such a brave, brave girl. Do you think you’d like some hot chocolate? I think Baxter needs some cuddles too?” The dog wags his tail, and rises from his safe place in the corner, behind the chair, rushing over to Lily, who giggles when he licks her face.

Hestia takes her hand and leads her and the dog into the kitchen to join in the mass hot chocolate frenzy and I turn to Kingsley. “We need to speak to Harry and Draco, this affects them too and if their mother isn’t alive, then Draco is the next living relative of the boy, at least on Sirius’ side. I think Harry would want to help, he loved his godfather and he has a right to know if his child lives a few doors away from him.”

“You’re right, of course. We’ll speak to them and then we’ll leave right away. We need to find out if their mother is alive as soon as possible and make preparations for their return to her.

 

**Draco**

“Who?” I blurt out after Hermione and Kingsley pull Potter and I aside to talk about Lily and Peter.

“Shush, keep your voice down, I don’t want them upset again.” Hermione warns, “They’re Sirus’ son and step- daughter, from what I can gather. A secret family. Merlin knows why he didn’t reveal them to anyone. Perhaps he was concerned he couldn’t protect them? In the end it seems he couldn’t, I just hope their mother’s safe.”

“It seems like him,” Harry said thoughtfully, “Sirius wasn’t always forthcoming with personal details of his life, although I’m surprised the older members of the order didn’t know his son was born after he escaped Azkaban. Perhaps Remus did? But then maybe not, he would’ve said something when Sirius died, or at least reached out to them. I suppose I always wondered why the bloke never married, or at least had a regular partner, but his life was pretty precarious at times and he spent all that time in prison. This woman must be devastated, or perhaps she doesn’t know he’s dead? Sweet Salazar, what a mess.” Harry puts his head in his hands and rubs over his face and scrunches his hair with his fingertips, causing it to fluff up.

“She’s an adult, and as much as it pains us to have to tell her, the children are the most important thing at the moment. If Peter is my cousin, then I have a duty to make sure he’s safe. I’m coming to check out their home situation, don’t try and stop me.” I demand.

“Um, Draco, darling? There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist, you were coming all along.”

“Oh. Alright then.” I feel a bit of an idiot, but then that’s nothing new.

“It’s really blimmin’ strange that she’s lived a few doors down all this time, and we haven’t seen as much as a lost child poster about them. Anyway, I’m staying here with the kids, after the day we’ve had I think I’ll be better off here, taking my mind of things for a bit. Tracey needs to prepare for the fact that I may be asking her to consent to a full Quidditch team’s worth of babies at this rate.” He chuckles, “You go, they’ll be alright here with me and the others.

Poor Tracey, I wonder if she knows what she’s letting herself in for. Look, I haven’t much thought about the finer details of how many children I’d like. Traditionally a pureblood Malfoy mother can only birth one child, but Hermione is strong and muggleborn, so I wonder whether we might be lucky enough to have more than one.

While we’re waiting for Harry to inform Mrs Figg of the situation in hushed whispers, Hermione lays her head on my shoulder.

“You know, if you want, I can take you to see Andromeda after all this is over, you have a little cousin you’ve never met, Teddy Lupin, Tonks and Remus’ son. He’s a joy to be around.”

I think I’d heard tell of their little boy, but I hadn’t given him much thought, especially as mother and my Aunt don’t speak. Perhaps it’s time to remedy that.

 

**Hermione**

The house at number six Grimmauld Place is a bit run down, but not much different to the others on the block. I can’t sense any magic immediately and I ask the others if they can. All say no. I wonder if the woman Sirius was involved with is a muggle.

“Perhaps I ought to ring the doorbell, she might be frightened if a group of men arrive at the door, especially if her house was raided by Robards and his thugs?”

“Be careful.” Draco tugs at the back of my hoodie and I turn to kiss him briefly. I’ve got to say, having someone else to worry about me is still relatively new, but I relish it.

I reach the door to find an old-fashioned doorbell, like the ones you see on Victorian houses. Number 12 has the same, but others on the block seem to have modernised their houses with double glazing and stylish doors. The bell echoes inside, but nobody answers.

I hear next door’s front door creak open and an elderly lady comes outside with a watering can, beginning to water her pansies. “Oh, hello there. If you’re looking for Mrs. Black, she’ll be at work, down the road at the newsagents, works there from ten until two.”

“Thank you, madam.” Draco bows lightly and the old woman blushes. He certainly has a way with older women, well, that is when they’re actually elderly women and not Percy Weasley in disguise.

“Mrs. Black?” Harry reiterates.

“Oh, yes love, the poor woman lost her husband and children a few years ago, never been the same since, she hasn’t.” She tuts at the awful situation while moving to water some marigolds.

We begin out trek in the way the women directed and come across a small newsagent. I peer inside and see a tired looking but pretty brunette woman serving a customer.

“That must be her?” I turn to the others. I peer at Draco’s muggle watch and see its almost two. “She’ll be finished in five minutes, so lets just wait until then, no point in scaring her half to death at work.”

Everyone agrees and we wait silently outside. I stand between Draco’s legs as he leans against the wall, his arms around my waist and his head resting on my shoulder. Everyone’s exhausted and shell-shocked, so we take a few moments of repose. Personally, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so tired in my life.

The doorbell rings as the lady leaves, bidding goodbye to someone inside.

“Err, Mrs. Black?” I walk over and try not to frighten her.

She eyes me warily.

“Mrs. Black, I’m Hermione Granger.” I hold my hand out, but she ignores it and begins to rush on. I jog to catch up with her. “Mrs. Black, please wait, we need to talk to you about your children.”

She halts then, turning to me, her face ashen. She reaches out and grabs the front of my jacket. “Who did you say you were?” Her eyes dart from side to side as she tries to read mine apprehensively.

“I’m Hermione Granger, we’ve found your children.” I move closer, “This is not the place to discuss it, we don’t know who might be listening.” I say.

“Madam, Lily and Peter told me your cooking spell, they helped me when I rescued them.” Draco moves forward and joins us in our hushed conversation. “They’re wonderful kids, we just want to get them home to you.”

She eyes Kingsley and Harry and cocks her head as an indication we follow back to her home.

Opening the door, we all trail in behind her and she asks us to sit at the kitchen table while she takes a full bottle of fire whiskey from the cupboard and five glasses. “I-I’m sorry, I never drink, but if I don’t have one now, I may fall over. You see, I’ve been waiting so long for someone to come. Either to tell me—” Tears spill from her eyes and plop into the drink she’s just poured herself and she lifts the glass, gulping it down. Once she finishes, she begins to pour Harry’s with a shaky hand. He places his hand on hers and takes the bottle gently, filling the other glasses, “—Either to tell me they’re dead or blackmail me or something equally horrendous. I know who you are Hermione, I know who all of you are, Harry, Kingsley,” She eyes Draco warily, “Draco Malfoy, although I’ve no idea why he might be with you, last I heard he went to trial for war crimes as a Death Eater.”

“Draco was acquitted. It’s a long story, crimes were committed by trusted men, including the kidnapping of your children, Draco was also misplaced and if it wasn’t for him, none of this would’ve come to light, Mrs. Black.” Kingsley assures her. “He is truly a reformed character and you needn’t worry about him being here.”

Draco opens his mouth in wonder and then swiftly throws a shot of fire whiskey down his throat. I know what he’s thinking, this is the Minister for magic singing his praises and its certainly unexpected. I smile briefly at him.

“Where are they? My Lily, my baby, Peter.” Mrs. Black pleaded.

“They’re safe, but they have been through a long ordeal and will need help to come to terms with what’s happened to them. How long ago were they taken?” I ask.

“A year ago, almost to the day. Peter was eighteen months old, Lily six; she was seven a month after she went missing. I never thought I’d have Hermione Granger and Harry Potter sitting in my kitchen telling me they’d been found; I could never have hoped for this. I was sure they were dead, and I couldn’t rock the boat, a pureblood witch living as a muggle. Peter’s father— he tried to keep us safe by having us live away from the wizarding world, but that didn’t work and once he was gone, I—well, I couldn’t provide the protection he once had, I didn’t want the Dark Lord to find me, but it turns out it wasn’t him I should have been afraid of, it was Robards, Gawain Robards, Head Auror and destroyer of families.”

“They’ve been very brave, Lily in particular.” Harry begins. “I must ask, is Sirius Black Peter’s father?”

She looks up sharply, realising we know Peter’s parentage. “Yes, he was, we had an affair, we went to Hogwarts together, although we were only friends then. When he moved back into 12 Grimmauld place, he visited me in the dead of night. We sought comfort in each other. My husband left us before Lily was one and Sirius never said too much, but he had a lot on his mind. It lasted a few months and then I fell pregnant with Peter. I should imagine Lily has told you he isn’t named after Peter Pettigrew; she was always so adamant about that.” She chuckles sadly.

“And who are you really, Mrs Black? I can’t imagine you married Sirius. Not with such little time.” Kingsley asked kindly.

“Yes, but not at the Ministry, legally I am Mrs. Cassandra Black in the muggle world. Sirius wanted to somehow make him legitimate, but we couldn’t approach the Ministry while he was on the run. I was Cassandra Whisp, Hufflepuff House.” She smiles at the memory.

“Sirius was my godfather, he left me his house, but then you probably knew that?” Harry speaks up once she’s finished.

“He provided for us and I have a full muggle bank account, we’ll never want for anything, it’s just I was so lonely here, I thought I’d go mad if I just waited, so I took the job at the newsagents, for company, you know?”

“We understand, and it must’ve been so difficult for you, Mrs. Black. We’ll return with the children once the Ministry investigators give us the go ahead. We hope that will be later today. Until then, please don’t speak to anybody, we probably shouldn’t really be here until the investigation is complete, but Lily was very helpful in helping us find you, and so desperate to know you weren’t dead, we had to come.”

“I know my babies must have thought I was dead, Percy Weasley had bound me to a chair in my kitchen, where you’re sitting actually, Hermione, and he said he would Avada me if I struggled. I couldn’t call out as he’d sealed my mouth with an Oscausi spell.

“Ah, I see why she might have thought something had happened to you. I’ll take pleasure in returning your little ones to you as soon as possible.” Kingsley smiles and reaches out for her hand to shake it. Cassandra throws herself into his arms and then makes rounds of everyone else, crying and thanking us, even Draco, even if she hesitated for a second. Harry was last and he took the opportunity to ask if he and Draco could visit again.

“Mrs Black, you must know that Draco and his family are related to Peter, and I’d like to think I’m sort of related, as Sirius’ godson. I don’t have a family, only my friends, Sirius he—h-he was the only family I had left—”

For some reason I notice them sort of connect on a level I didn’t expect, I feel the crackle of underlying magic course between them. I only notice because of their sudden silence as they stare at one another and it’s gone as soon as it arrived.

“Harry, y-you are all welcome here anytime. I’m just so grateful that there’s someone out there who cares enough about my Lilly and Peter to visit. They’ll love it, I know they will.” She blushes, but I’m the only one who notices I think.

We bid her goodbye, chuckling as she pulled out her baking pans, telling us she was baking biscuits for their arrival home.

It was a most satisfying conclusion, but Draco reminds me of the time - we had to be at the Unspeakables offices soon. 

**Draco**

Alright, so I expected a captive audience as soon as I arrived at the Ministry alongside Hermione and Potter. Weasley arrived just after us I know we probably look like a curious band to be seen together at all, let alone here on Ministry business.

Unspeakable Whitney met us in the atrium and escorted us to his office on level B9, opposite the department of Mysteries and until he closed the door behind us, I felt every pair of eyes boring into me. I know what they’re thinking. They’re thinking what almost every other witch or wizard who see’s me thinks, ‘Why isn’t he in Azkaban? He deserves it, he’s Death Eater scum.’ It’s doubtful I’ll ever find redemption in their eyes, but the people who care about me don’t think that, and that’s enough for me. I still worry about how mine and Hermione’s relationship might look to them, once it becomes common knowledge, but that’s a bridge we’ll have to cross when we come to it.

When we arrived, we were asked to sit in white plastic chairs in a stark white room and await our turn. My palms are clammy, and somehow being in here causes my stomach to flutter with the first signs of a panic attack. Sweating and dizzy, I stand and begin to pace, and at once Hermione is by my side.

“Its been a long and stressful day, you’ve been through a lot and what you’re feeling is perfectly normal.” She strokes my arms, bringing my attention to her. I stare into her eyes, finding she grounds me. “Now, take deep breaths, and focus on your happy thought, the one you use for your patronous.” I do exactly that and find my agitated feelings begin to dissipate.

The door opens and my name is called first, of course it would be me, my luck isn’t that good. I wince and try to walk as confidently as possible to the doors, glancing back to see Hermione mouth ‘I love you’ before she disappears out of sight.

The room we’re seen in is much less clinical, its almost homely and I realise its Unspeakable Whitney’s office. A woman stands, she holds her hand out for me to shake and introduces herself.

“Mr. Malfoy, my name is Claudette Charpentier, Acting Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I know you’ve been informed that the Department of Magical law Enforcement is currently suspended, and I have come from Paris to provide my services in the investigation. Unspeakable Whitney has told me of the occurrences in wizarding Britain and I’m hoping we can bring all this to a swift conclusion, for your sake as well as the Auror’s and staff who have done no wrong.” She wears a well-tailored navy suit and her hair is pinned in a severe bun, but she speaks kindly in a thick French accent.

I turn and another man moves to shake my hand, holding a clip board in the other. “Douglas Merriweather, acting scribe for the Wizangamot, but I need to advise you my presence is merely to annotate this meeting, nothing you say will leave this room, Ms. Charpentier, Mr. Whitney and I have sworn an unbreakable oath to this effect.” Merriweather is a tall man, broad across the shoulders and someone who looks like he plays a lot of Quidditch. He is impeccably dressed, as one would expect of someone who’s looking to replace Percy Weasley in his position. His presence is relaxing, and I feel my anxiety deplete.

“Right, now everybody knows’ s who’s who, shall we begin?” Whitney asks.

We all sit down into comfortable chairs surrounding a large glass coffee table. The room is warm, and I feel my eyelids burn with the need to take a snooze, these past days have been knackering.

“Mr. Malfoy, can you tell us anything about what happened once the Wizangamot proceedings were completed and you were officially released from any accountability during the war.” Ms. Charpentier asks.

“No, not really, I found myself in muggle London on a Community Service programme. To my knowledge, an arrangement had been made with the muggle Prime Minister that I should be the one to pay for crimes committed during the war, those which affected muggle Britain.” I answer, feeling hot under the collar as they stare at me.

“Were you told this?” Whitney asks.

“Not exactly, it’s more like I knew that was my reason for being there.”

“So, you didn’t question it with officials, your parole officer?” Charpentier raises an eyebrow.

“No. Look, it may seem unbelievable, but I felt I deserved it for my part in the war, for taking the mark, for what happened to Dumbledore. It was better than Azkaban and I thought it best not to rock the boat, in case I found myself incarcerated instead.”

“So, you did as you were told and carried out the work?” Charpentier replies.

“Yes, I knew it would be dangerous for me to fight it, I have no memory of how or why. It was only when I came across Hermione that I realised how wrong it was, that whoever put me in muggle London had obliviated some memories and perhaps replaced them with others. At first, I didn’t remember I’d been acquitted at the Wizangamot, Hermione reminded me.”

“Then, you don’t know who did this to you?” Whitney frowned.

“I don’t, but all bets are on Robards, purely conjecture on my part but it seems he would be the only one who would want me out of the way, and he couldn’t put me in Azkaban, too many people would find out. I think he had his eye on Blaise from the beginning and he knew we moved in the same circles and he couldn’t have Blaise do what he wanted if there was a chance he might be found out. It’s common knowledge that I’m usually well versed in the goings on within Pureblood society.”

“Would you allow us to test you under Veritaserum, Mr. Malfoy? It’s not because we don’t believe you, but in a situation of this magnitude we need to be certain we know everything. It is, of course, your choice.” Charpentier assures me in her lilting accent.

I don’t want this, there have been too many in my mind over the past years, Voldemort, the Auror’s taking memories for the Wizangamot at my trial, then Robards replacing my memories before I was sent to muggle London. I sigh deeply, “If you must.” Is my reply.

**Hermione**

Draco’s been gone quite some time and I begin to panic. What if they’ve found something wrong or they’ve found something that might implicate him in this? I trust Kingsley, but my faith in Ministry internal workings is severely shaken. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go into the meeting without being on the defensive myself. I shuffle in my seat.

Harry and Ron chatted for a while about the children, but now each one of us is lost in our own thoughts, I daresay they are both as troubled as I am.

I feel an arm snake around my shoulders, and then another from the opposite side. I sit securely between my best friends, my mind buzzing with questions.

“What if they find a way to send him to Azkaban? What if they don’t believe him and by default, us?” My voice breaks the silence.

“Hermione, this is us, remember, if he’s with us, then he’s trusted. Not a one of us could be considered dishonest and if we have confidence that Malfoy’s changed, then so should they, regardless of the bloody awful tattoo’s he’s covered himself with.” Harry purses his lips, holding back laughter.

“I happen to like them. He has one—” I snap my mouth shut, realising I’ve said too much.

“Has one, what, Hermione?” Ron leans forward, his eyes filled with mischief.

“Yeah, Hermione, spill the beans, what _has_ Malfoy got.” Harry sniggers.

“Well he, err, I-it’s, they, yes, they.” I stutter.

“Spit it out Hermione, we haven’t got all day.” Ron grins, his face flushed with his attempt to hold in a giggle, I know him well enough.

“You two are the most incomparable gossips! If you want to know, he has two tattoos of me, one of my face and another of me riding the dragon out of Gringotts’s. Happy?” I inform them with all the righteousness I can muster.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? You’ve barely been together five minutes and he’s getting you inked on his body for life. How did he manage that? We’ve been busy since I first saw him again.” Ron snorts.

I blush, my eyes glancing to Harry’s. A look of realisation crosses his face.

“It seems Malfoy has been in love with Hermione for much longer than we realised, and he already had them. Am I getting warm Hermione?” Harry’s a little more serious, but his eyes still twinkle with barely checked mirth.

“What?” Ron elbows me, “Now you’ve got to tell us the full story.”

“Yes, Harry’s right, it caused a row between us, I couldn’t understand why he’d do it, but then I understood when I calmed down and allowed him to explain. It was that night, Harry, you know the night he left. He said having them made him feel like he had an ally in the muggle world.”

Harry nods.

“Look, Hermione, I can’t even begin to comprehend what goes on between you two for you both to care about each other like this, but Malfoy has never been anything like he is now, I hardly know the bloke. What I’m trying to say is, if he’s changed and he’s worthy of you, then I who am I to stand in the way of true love? I’ve experienced it myself recently and I’ve got to say, it’s a game changer, its like you’d do anything to remain by her side, like you’d just do anything to make her happy. Salazar’s rod, did you ever think you’d see me getting married? I thought I’d be an eternal bachelor.” He reveals a lot about himself in that speech, in a very adult and unlike Ronald way.

Harry peers down at his hands and I realise he might feel left out. I nudge him with my shoulder, and he gives me a crooked smile.

“Cassandra was nice, wasn’t she?” He says eventually, his eyes on mine, and I wonder where this is going. Does Harry fancy her?

“Nice witch, you told me, and a good mother.” Ron agrees, oblivious to the non-verbal conversation Harry and I are carrying on with our eyes.

“She’s very pretty, you can see why Sirius sought out her company.” I agree. I want to talk more, but I’m called next and leave the room with a knowing smile. My best friend always says more when he’s saying nothing at all, he’s always been the same.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of down time after the stress of the last chapter but a little angsty throughout.   
> Draco makes the decision to become the one who fills the cracks and mends fractures, but will he succeed?  
> Betaed by the wonderful @badwolfjedi <3

** Draco  **

I’m standing by the sink in the kitchen at the Burrow in the low evening light, listening to the melancholy words being spoken urgently to Mr. Weasley by Ron, Harry and Hermione. We’re all wrung out and all submitted to questioning under Veritaserum for the trials of those involved. Hermione hasn’t said much, but when we have a moment, I’m sure we’ll discuss it in more depth. 

Arthur Weasley listens, his eyes glancing to me occasionally, eventually realising the reason I’m standing in his kitchen as the story progresses. The last he would have heard was that Hermione had a hot date, and it’s unlikely he would’ve got wind of our relationship before now, as Ron has been with us and nobody else knew. 

I gather Mrs. Weasley and the Weaslette have gone shopping but are due back shortly. I guess they’re rushing to tell him the full details as the pair are likely to apparate or floo back mid-conversation, which would cause a ruckus, especially with me unexpectedly standing in their kitchen.

All Mr. Weasley seems to say is ‘right’ over and over, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Even I know they’ve had a hard time of things, some fleeting conversations I’ve overheard between Hermione and Potter, and a few things Weasley has mentioned in passing tell me that Mrs. Weasley and the family are still devastated by the loss of Fred in the war.

To say I’m uncomfortable being here at all is an understatement, it’s no secret that Mr. Weasley and my father never got on, and with good reason I suppose. Of course, I was an ignorant little snot whose polite manners did not extend to those I believed beneath me and I feel terrible about that now I’ve realised that these people are not beneath me at all. In fact, I feel they have every right to believe they’re above me, the poor little cloistered rich boy who hadn’t a clue how life really worked back then.

Standing here watching the devastation on the elder Weasleys face reminds me of all those times my own family have disappointed me by making the choices they made. My father, the one who should’ve protected me, first in line. 

Percy Weasley was the only one of the family who seemed destined to make something of himself at the Ministry. Weasley Senior worked there but had held the same position for years so he was never a threat to his sons career but it must’ve killed Percy to see the golden girl, Hermione, take up the place he’d so desperately wanted, based on the merits of her wartime service and reputation alone. Clearly, that doesn’t in any way make up for the fact he became involved in a plot to overthrow the Ministry, or that he was one of a group of people that possibly killed witches and wizards and most certainly ruined the lives of many, including the next generation. Those children will undoubtedly suffer trauma for years to come, even with psycho-magical therapy. With a loving family such as this, I just can’t fathom how or why he could’ve done this. I once thought the family crass and vulgar, its children like ragamuffins in hand me down clothes, but as soon as walked into this house, I felt love here, from the warm kitchen with its mishmash of well used implements, to the smell of freshly baked bread. Next to the fire, some knitting has been discarded, a half-knit jumper and a clock on the wall showing the placements of each family member. I notice Fred’s face is still there, but his eyes are closed in the picture and his arrow is pointing to lost on the outer rim. Percy’s points to prison and I see Mr. Weasley follow my eyes and notice that for himself with a look of horror.

He nods several times, as if trying to plan for the forthcoming tornado of emotion, telling his wife will bring. “I’ll tell her, yes, I-I’ll tell her alone. I want to thank you, I want to thank you all—” I stand straight as a poker as he heads towards me, first holding a handout to me, then swiftly changing his mind and hugging me momentarily, before clapping me on the back. I admit, I thought I may be about to receive a punch to the face for my audacity in stepping foot in his home. 

“Draco,” his voice breaks with emotion, “I apologise on behalf of my family for the trouble you have been caused, for your loss of freedom, it isn’t right, none of this is right at all—”

“Mr. Weasley, it’s alright. It is I who should apologise, my father, Ginny, I—” I feel my throat constrict but cough lightly to return it to normal. “I haven’t been harmed, please don’t feel—”

He looks up, his eyes red rimmed and angry. “It’s not alright, and you forget about your father’s deeds, all you kids should’ve been able to enjoy peace, you shouldn’t have to deal with this again so soon.” He pauses, looking out of the window over my shoulder, “There’s only so much you can take, before you crack.” He seems to recover himself and plasters a fake smile on his face. “Now, you get going, and leave Molly to me. Hermione, could I ask you to allow Ginny to stay with you tonight? Ron will go to Tracey, I’d imagine, and I think Molly and I will need to be alone. Ron, son,” He hugs Ron tightly, “Will you tell George? I’m sorry to ask it of you, but I think I’ll have my hands full with your mother.” Ron bursts into tears and hugs his father.

“Arthur, it’s alright, Harry and I will tell George, I’ll ask him to stay at my flat tonight so we can keep an eye on him if he’d like. Leave it to us.” Hermione speaks up, hugging them both.

With several further hugs and forlorn farewells, we are on our way to the Joke Shop in Diagon Alley and there is nothing funny at all about it.

** Hermione **

It’s not good, it’s not good at all. I turn and sob into Draco’s arms as Ron and Harry tell George about Percy’s involvement. I need a drink badly after this day and one fire whiskey at 3 o’ clock is hardly sufficient to see me through. I grasp his collar and he pull’s me into the hallway outside George’s flat. The air is oppressive inside, where George has lost any sense of normality in his time of mourning and his home is a mess. It’s the first time I’ve seen it first-hand. I know from Ron that George won’t allow his mother to come there and he’s let the place go to wrack and ruin, whiskey bottles and glasses placed within a myriad of moulded plates of food and dirty clothes strewn around.

“I can’t,” I begin, “It’s all too much.” Enclosed in Draco’s arms I feel safe and warm and so very loved, something I suppose I never expected. I never expected that this boy, now a man, would feel like home, that he’d understand me and take me away from the things that hurt me without a word about how awful the smell was, or how terrible George looked with his lank red hair almost reaching his shoulder blades.

“Do you know anyone who was good with him back in school? It doesn’t seem that he’s paying attention to his family right now, he’s spiralled into depression. Perhaps there’s someone he would listen to?” Draco mutters.

“Not really, Angelina was close with them both, Angelina Johnson. They were together for a while after Fred, but she left when he told her he didn’t want anything more to do with her. I think she’s a reserve for the Holyhead Harpies now, so she’s miles away.” 

Draco stepped away from me, kissed me on the cheek and apparated, leaving me with a hanky for my streaming nose.

** Draco  **

“It doesn’t work like that anymore, Malfoy!” Johnson strides across the pitch to collect a shin pad she dropped in the match, “He doesn’t get to send someone like you to do his dirty work, when he dumped me.”

“Johnson,” I hold my hands out, “Do you really think I’d be here in the back of beyond to ask you to come back to Weasley if I didn’t think it needed to be done, I’m no saint and you know that, and he didn’t ask me to come.”

She pauses, “So why are you here then?”

“Look, Hermione is my girlfriend now and when she turned up at Weasley’s joke shop, he was living in squalor, plus, we had to give him some further bad news, alright, and he’s not in a good way. I thought, oh, fuck this was a bad idea!” I scratch my head in irritation.

Angelina snorts, “You and Granger, that’s something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime. You’re hot, that’s about all you’ve got going for you from where I stand.”

Ha! She thinks I’m hot, I’ve still got it, I laugh to myself. Rudely I retort, “I never thought I’d see you on the bench, Johnson, a reserve I heard? Perhaps this isn’t the right place for you. Like it’s not your time, you know? Just like him, staying in a place that keeps him as a child seeking fun with a brother who’s long gone, instead of a man seeking a life, double bubble, don’t you think Johnson? You both seem to be coasting, you know, not really moving forward without each other, am I wrong?” I know I’m being a twat, but I have to try to be truthful from my perspective, she won’t believe me if I lie and try to butter her up.

She paces and rubs her head with the heel of her hand. “He told me to go, do you know how much that hurt?” She glances at me but quickly looks away, “Do you know what? I don’t even know why I asked that question, of course you don’t understand, you probably have Granger under the Imperious.” Her eyes flash wide with anger, and she bites her lips together.

That remark fucking angers me, but I keep my cool. “Actually, no. However much I resent that remark, we’ve been through a lot since we met again, and it hasn’t all been sunshine and sodding roses I assure you, it’s been tough, the world is cruel and all we’ve done is try to find some spark of happiness in it.” I pause, not sure what else to say. Either it’ll work or it won’t.

“H-he, I’ve wanted to go to him, but he wouldn’t return my owl’s, he’s blocked me from the floo.” She breathes deeply, “He told me I was better off without him, but every day!” She shouts, “Every goddam day, I think about him and I worry about him!”

“He needs you, Johnson, this situation could break him.” I find myself almost pleading, “It’s not for me to say, but he’s living in a pit of his own filth and Hermione’s back there crying over it, he won’t see his mother and his family are worried sick about him. Come with me and help us, if he has to rely on someone like me for pity, Johnson, then he’s swiftly running out of mates.”

She seems to take that as a white flag and looks up. 

“Alright, I’ll come with you, but I only want to apparate outside, I can’t face rejection again, so you’ll have to let me in. I’ll try, that’s all I can do.”

I lower my head momentarily, “Believe me, I know what rejection feels like and if my word means anything, I’ll take you to him in that way if you please.” I offer my hand. She hesitates for a second, before taking it with a firm grip.

** Hermione  **

Things have become heated since Draco left and Harry joins me outside George’s door while Ron tries to talk some sense into George, who’s taken to throwing things around his flat. I place my fingers in my ears as Harry watches the goings on inside, squeezing my eyes closed. I can’t cope with George’s pain because I know it’s not totally directed at Percy, its directed at Fred for leaving him, even without his brother making that choice. Ron, Ginny and Arthur have been visiting him almost daily since Fred’s death, but it hasn’t soothed him, he’s just been living his life on autopilot, running the shop and coming home to this—this chaos. It’s an indication of what it could be like for me if I allow my drinking problem to get out of hand and that is terrifying. Until now I’ve managed it, nobody has really noticed, but then Draco walked into my life and I saw his glances as I topped up my glass, his look of uncertainty when I reached for another bottle, and then later Harry’s eyes on me as I did the same. They know, and now it’ s not so much of secret how I push the bad dreams and dark thoughts away.

The door below opens and I hear two pairs of feet trudge up the stairs from below. I’m so relieved to see Draco that I rush to him, pulling him to me and ignoring who’s behind him. 

“I guess you were right about being with Granger.” Angelina Johnson gives a wry chuckle, “And also some kind of relationship fixer too, wonders will never cease.”

“I’m glad you’ve come, if there’s anyone who can sort this mess out, it’s you.” Harry sounds relieved. “He won’t listen to us, I’m sorry Angelina, it’s a mess in there, he’s a mess.” He apologises.

She reaches up and cups Harry’s face. “It’ll be fine but stay out here if you don’t mind, I need to speak to him alone.”

The door opens and we watch her wave her wand, making the mess inside disappear and throwing us a wink that seemed cool, even though she might be dubious about the situation she was walking into. 

No sooner had Angelina closed the door behind her, a wail comes from an apparating figure, only getting louder as they morph back into a sobbing redheaded witch. “Tell me it isn’t true!” She storms towards Draco, of course she does, because in her mind he’s the root of all ill’s in the world. Her wand is pressing into the hollow of his throat, just below his Adam’s apple and he holds his hands up.

“Easy Red, this isn’t what you think.” He says calmly.

“How can it not be? You’re involved, you sly, dirty ferret, you’ve had my brother put in jail!” She hisses, her face contorted with anger.

“Ginny, put down your wand!” Ron snaps, walking over and pushing it away from him, “Percy did this to himself, he got involved with that scum Robards and he’s going to pay for it, however much we don’t want to see him in Azkaban. Malfoy had nothing to do with it!”

“Ginny, he’s right, Draco has nothing to do with it, we’ve all been working together to find the culprits. Unfortunately, your brother was one of them.” I speak up.

Her eyes snap to mine, realisation dawning in them. I prepare myself for the tirade. “It was him! Malfoy was the one at your flat! You’ve been shagging him, and your judgement is clouded! Sweet Circe, he’s no better than a lowlife Death Eater and now you’ve spread your legs for him!”

“That’s enough!” Draco yells without warning, the apples of his cheeks are flushed red in a way I’ve never seen before and his eyes look dangerous. He’s fucking livid. “How dare you speak about her like that! She’s with me, yes, that part is correct, but you’ve got no right to presume that affects her judgement. If you think that, little girl, then you don’t fucking know her at all! Call yourself her friend, do you? I’m sick and sodding tired of people making her out to be something she’s not! She’s perfect, she’s a great friend to you all and you don’t deserve that if this is what you think of her, not at all!” He’s standing glowering over Ginny, who’s lifted her chin in defiance, but I can see, for all her Gryffindor bravery, her lower lip wobble. 

“Ginny please—” I attempt.

“Oh, save it! Whatever I say my heads likely to be bitten off by your new guard dog.” She retorts cattily. I know she can be stubborn when she’s hurt, and she’ll dig her heels in until the end. 

“Ginny, I expected better of you.” Harry says disappointedly, “You’re Hermione’s best girlfriend, you’ve been through tons together, but you can’t just let her explain, can you? Ever the bloody, hard-nosed bitch.”

“Hey, hey! Look, I know you guys are within your rights to say how you feel but remember she’s my sister and we’ve all had a shit day, lets calm down before we say something we regret.” Ron moves protectively to Ginny.

“Why?” She demands, moving before me with her hands on her hips.

“Why what? Why didn’t I tell you about Draco? It was new, literally the first day when you came over, after that there wasn’t the time to tell you, we’ve been on the run for days Ginny.”

“Just like old times then? You three together, excluding everyone else —except for him.” She responds cynically, eyeing Draco.

“Contrary to popular belief, Ginny, we don’t enjoy being scared out of our wits and on the run from men who are single mindedly out for our blood.” I snap.

“Could’ve fooled me! It was always you three, always you who ran off together in your little clique. I thought we’d got past that, I thought we’d become close, Hermione, but how can I help but feel hurt when you all keep things from me at every given opportunity. I’m not a child anymore, you could’ve come to me!” She sniffs.

I venture closer. “I know that, and don’t you think I would’ve loved to have been able to tell you everything, but there wasn’t time and your brother and Harry are Auror’s, they helped Draco and I, and we needed them, and I wasn’t going to put anyone else in danger unnecessarily, we didn’t know what this was at first.” I place an hand on her upper arm. She doesn’t shrug it off, so that’s a good sign.

“She’s right, Gin, we thought it might’ve just been a stalker or fanatical fan of Hermione’s at first, but it turned out to be so much bigger.” Ron spoke, glancing at Harry who was still looking irate at Ginny’s tirade. It was unusual for him to say hurtful things, but there was some history between him and Ginny and, I suppose, he still hasn’t totally got over their break-up shortly after the war. It wasn’t exactly on good terms, but they’ve done a good job of being friends since, or so I thought. 

“Much as I’d love to stay here and chat all night, I’m knackered and I’m about to drop where I stand.” Harry comments, his eyes on me. 

“Ginny, come back to my flat for the night, we can talk.” I speak gently, she has little choice really.

“Is he going to be there?” She shoots Draco an indignant look.

“Yes, Draco’s my boyfriend now, so he’s going to be around a lot.” I’m sorry but she’s going to have to deal with that.

She shoots him another hateful look.

“I can go back to the Manor tonight if it makes things easier.” Draco attempts to pacify the situation.

No! No, he can’t leave, I’m not backing down on that just because my friend is being a cow. “No, please don’t, I-I—I won’t be able to sleep tonight without you there.”

He looks firstly to me and then to Ginny. “May I have a private word Ginevra?” He asks politely. 

“I thought you’d never ask, Draco Lucius.” She snaps, heading out into the hallway. 

Draco grimaces and follows her. I just hope they don’t kill each other.

** Draco  **

I close the door behind me and face the furious redhead. “Look, I know I’m the last person you’d want Hermione to be with.” I begin.

“Whatever would make you think that? Is it the fact you bullied her mercilessly throughout school? Or the fact you stood by and watched her tortured in your own home? Oh, hang on a second, perhaps it was the fact you thought she was filth for so many years?”

“She and I have made our peace over that, she forgave me, and yes, before you say it, I know I don’t deserve it. Your brother and Potter saved me, and Hermione saved me in more ways than one. We’re happy together. If you want to ruin that for her, you can try but I think it’ll make you out to be a venomous shrew who can’t help but meddle in her friend’s relationship.” 

“How can you live with yourself, knowing what you did, how you made her feel? There were times where you broke her! Not that’s she’s ever show you that back then, but I can’t count the amount of times she sobbed because of you and your torment! I was there for that, I saw it!”

“The truth is, I’m struggling to deal with the boy I once was, I know the decisions I made, and the bullying masked what I truly felt about her. I loved her. I’ve loved her for a very long time, and I allowed the prejudices of my father and my house at Hogwarts to cloud my judgement. There is no apology I can make for that, but I have tried, and I’ve changed, whether or not you choose to believe it. I’m not that boy anymore. Do you really think she’d have me if I was? If I hadn’t proved to be different?”

Ginny snorts and shakes her head. “It’ll take a lot more to convince me. You’ve hoodwinked them, but I will prove to be a tougher witch to crack.”

“Alright, then I’ll welcome the challenge. Let me begin by apologising for everything that happened at school. I appreciate that you didn’t mention Dumbledore. I let the Death Eaters in, and he still left a legacy to protect me, I’ll tell you about it sometime. The man was a miracle worker and I’ll never be able to repay him. I apologise for what happened to you in the Chamber after my father gave you that book and for calling you a blood traitor. I was a totally arsehole and I deserve everything you fling at me. Please just don’t hurt Hermione over this. Surely, we can try to be on good terms for her sake. You don’t have to like me; you just have to tolerate me being in the same room.”

She’s looking at me curiously but eventually speaks. “So, then I get to hex your balls off if you ever do anything to hurt her?” I see a hit of a smile at the corners of her mouth, even if her eyes are still flashing with annoyance.

“I’m hardly going to agree to such a thing, but if you must. I know I’m going to spend my life making it up to Hermione and hoping I can be good enough for her. I ask only one thing in return.” 

“What?” She asks.

“Please go back in there and hug her and your brother and even Harry if you so desire it, they’re devastated over what happened today with Percy, none of this has been easy on any of us and the last thing you need is for your family to fall apart over this, you need each other.”

She closes her eyes momentarily before nodding. “One last thing, Malfoy.” She stops me before we return. “I’ll be watching you.” She points at her eyes with her fore and middle finger, then points back at me.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I retort with a smirk.

** Hermione  **

I don’t know what Draco and Ginny talked about, but I know there were no raised voices, nor any marks on them when they returned. Ginny ran into my arms as soon as she saw me again and proceeded to hug and apologise to everyone.

“I don’t know what you said to her but thank you sweetheart.” I lift my hand to cup his chin. He leans down, his lips gently brushing mine before he hugs me tightly. I know I’ve said this before, but I feel safe and loved for the first time in my life and I’m still in awe that it’s Draco Malfoy that makes me feel that way. 

“Thank you, thank you for bringing Angelina and thanks for talking to Ginny, she seems better.” I whisper, kissing the tip of his nose, my arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Anything for you, princess, I think Weaslette is only one step further away from maiming me, but its an important step.” He chuckles, nosing my hair and planting a tiny kiss on my earlobe.

I look up to find them all staring at us.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to Hermione snogging the ferret.” Ginny chuckles, in a far better mood than she was when she arrived. Perhaps Draco made her realise she was being an idiot. It’s strange how his way with words has literally been turned around to work in our favour.

“Yes, um, well, I’m going to knock and check on Angelina, I’ll see if it’s okay to leave.”

I timidly knock on the door and tentatively push it open to find Angelina sitting on the sofa with George’s head in her lap. He’s asleep, the fraught look on his face gone, replaced by tear stained cheeks. “We’re going to leave, if you’re alright with all this?” I whisper so as not to wake a sleeping George.

She nods, “He’s cried it all out and he seems better now. Poor guys just kept it all locked up inside for so long, this thing with Percy was the catalyst for a total blow out. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how he’s kept the shop running but I’ll talk to him about either helping him myself or getting staff in, so he doesn’t need to be here all the time. I think—” She moves her hand to caress his brow, “I think things will better between us and perhaps we’ll be able to move on together, get past all this. Well, I hope so.”

I place my hand on her shoulder gently. “Thank you, I think you were what he needed, even if he pushed you away before. Men, eh?” I give her a tight smile which she returns tiredly.

Closing the door carefully I say to the others. “Right, this is goodnight then. I was wondering if you wanted to meet late morning at Privet Drive, to find out whats happening with the little ones?”

Ron looks bashful, “Err, well I’m going there tonight, Tracey’s going to meet me there. I can’t stand the thought of the little ones left being afraid, are you coming back for Baxter?” He asks Draco.

“I thought I’d leave him there with the last of the children tonight, he’s a comfort to them, Mrs Figg is caring for him and I know they were excited to have him there.” Draco replies.

“Ron, you’re a good man.” I hug him tightly, looking up at Draco pleadingly.

He understands what I’m trying to relay in my glance. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, are we all going then? Weaslette, are you up for an uncomfortable night on a camp bed?”

“Yeah, why not? I doubt I’ll sleep anyway. We could have a few games of wizard poker and then see if we can snatch some rest before the children get up.”

“Alright then, let’s go.” Harry sighs. He looks exhausted but agrees to join us. 

** Draco  **

Potter looks disappointed when he finds out Lily and Peter have gone back to their mother when we arrive back at Privet Drive, he arrived first and I see him conversing with Chris as we turn up. The house is calm, and Chris is the only one still awake, nursing a bottle of muggle whiskey, no doubt purchased from the local off licence, and sitting next to Tracey Davis who looks quite comfortable until she spots me.

“My Lord!” He grins as he sees me, and I walk over to clap him on the back. “Mums asleep upstairs with the kiddies, some of ‘em wouldn’t settle, lots have gone home already to their families already, it’s been a busy day. I needed a bloody drink, I didn’t think kids could drain the energy out of a bloke so much, they kept asking endless questions, mate. Seriously, how do you answer why the sun and the moon don’t ever meet each other? Or why does Baxter need to go to poo? I only got ten minutes peace when I took the poor mutt for a piss.” He chuckles, spotting Ron and Ginny and swiftly rising to his feet. 

“As I live and breathe, this is Ginny Weasley, I saw your picture in the Prophet, me darling, it didn’t do your beauty justice. I’m Chris Figg” And the blokes on his knee’s once more, kissing her hand, I have no idea why he doesn’t have a woman of his own, he’s such a simpering romantic.

Ginny giggles, “Chris, have you got playing cards and more booze?”

“Be still my beating heart, she is the ideal woman.” He smiles widely, “Take a seat, your every wish is my command.” He pulls out a chair for her and swiftly moves on to Ron, holding his hand out. “Ron Weasley, I’m pleased to meet you properly, you’re a hero of mine, just like Harry and Hermione, and now Lord Drax too, although the blonde wanker doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Oi, you cheeky git!” I glower, albeit good naturedly.

“Pleased to meet you mate.” Ron holds out his hand, blushing. “Although, I’m no hero, more of a sidekick. I know he doesn’t deserve Hermione, but somehow, she wants him, who am I to stand in the way of true love?” He blushes.

“I’m beginning to feel like you lot have got it in for me.” I joke and pout at Hermione who moves into my arms, standing on her toes to give me a peck on the lips.

“Don’t listen to them sweetheart.” She bites back a laugh.

“As long as I have you, princess, I don’t need any of these gits.” I reply, kissing the crown of her head and relishing the feeling of her soft, warm body in my arms. My plan to take her back to her flat and make love to her is long gone but the thought of it makes me horny as hell.

“I seriously think I might vomit.” Ginny screws up her face.

“Join the club. Honestly, we’ve had to suffer this for days, its sickening.” Ron groans as he heads to hug and kiss Tracey. 

“I think its sweet and they’re a stunnin’ pair.” The six-foot punk rocker says with such sincerity everyone bursts out laughing

Tracey seems quiet, and as the others muster some glasses and plates of leftovers from the kitchen, I take the opportunity to approach her. 

“Its been a long time since I’ve seen a fellow Slytherin who didn’t threaten to kill me as soon as they saw me.” I take a seat beside her, hoping not to spook her. 

She nods, “When Ron owled earlier, I must say I was shocked to hear he’d been helping you, you’re the last person on earth I thought he’d ever describe as ‘almost friends really, but maybe in the future, if he doesn’t hurt Hermione’ and ‘he’s alright really, we just never talked alone and he’s quite easy to talk to’. I just didn’t know what to make of it. Malfoy, you see, you forget I saw everything you were at school and I can’t say I’m overtly enamoured with my future husband being friends with you.” She says honestly, but not nastily. I remember her from school, a mousy little thing who hid behind her gaggle of friends from the big bad Slytherin boys who dominated the common room, i.e. me.

“I think I’m as shocked as you to say I like the bloke, I never thought I’d say that out loud, but he’s quite laid back when you’re not upsetting his friends.” I give a brief smile. 

“I want to know if you have an agenda here, Malfoy, I can’t allow you to wheedle your way in here and hurt them when they trust you. We swore an oath when we joined Slytherin house in first year, one that binds us, do you remember it?”

I think back to that first night in the common room when the year six students gathered us around and told us that whatever happened we would always be truthful to one of our own if they asked the right questions. I can’t remember the exact wording, but Tracey’s right, we did.

“I was bright, hardworking and I’m a half-blood, so you know I was always an outsider, there were so few of us in Slytherin we always kept out heads down, especially when you lot began to spout the pureblood crap.” She begins. “I’m not an idiot, I know you managed to prove to Granger you’ve changed, and Ron and Harry believe you too. I trust them and I’m sorry Percy was part of this conspiracy against you, but in my mind, you deserved it, I have to tell you the truth. What we went through under Snape as headmaster left us all terrified to leave, terrified to stay and you caused that. Alright, we were mainly left alone as Slytherin house, but the other houses, especially Gryffindor were hounded and punished, their lives were made a bloody misery and it was a stressful situation to be in, especially when Snape left, and McGonagall was Head afterwards.” She said in hushed tones as the others laughed in the kitchen as they sought out food.

“There’s nothing I can say to change that, Davis, I know it was my doing, what I did changed the tides of the war and I’ll never forgive myself for it. If I hadn’t done it my mother would’ve been killed, then me for disobeying Voldemort, selfish I know, but I went ahead and took the mark in my father’s place to protect her. I’m not looking for your forgiveness, although your trust would make things easier between us. If you’re the only one I can be honest with, I’ll tell you this. I don’t deserve redemption, because everything I did was callous and stupid, the actions of a boy who thought he knew who he was, someone who wanted to make his father proud and carry on his tradition of being a Death Eater, but only realised the stupidity of his actions at the last moment when he realised he was playing in the big leagues and his life was at stake. Its here still, this mark—” I lift my arm to show her, and to her credit she doesn’t flinch, “—It may be covered to an extent, but it’s a reminder to be brave, to stand up for what I want and believe and never listen to utter bullshit from a monster ever again.”

“I know how it is and I know how people look at you, just for being a Slytherin. Zabini may have wooed the wizarding world with his good looks, but the rest of us are still treated as pariahs, even if we didn’t take part, even if we didn’t harm anyone.” 

“Did Weas—Ron tell you that Blaise was involved, imperiused and made to take an unbreakable to spy on me and Hermione? They almost killed him; this new lot who wanted the opposite of what Voldemort wanted? That’s what this was, this conspiracy was to eradicate purebloods, unless they were sympathisers, and I’ll bet you didn’t have a clue it was happening at all. It’s been going on since the end of the war, when most thought they were safe and it was all over, Davis. We’ve stopped them, and I’ve helped too, does that seem like the actions of someone who still has their own agenda? I was interrogated under Veritaserum by the Ministry for Christ’s sake.” I lower my head because I’m not sure this conversation is going anywhere and she’s silent for a minute.

“No, you’re right, you don’t deserve it, but you deserve to have the opportunity to try to be a better man. If you’ve proved yourself to those three then I believe them, and I will try to become friends with you too. I just had to be sure before I invited you as Hermione’s plus one to our wedding next month.” She grins.

I can’t help but feel elated about that, our first official engagement as a couple. I look her in the eye gratefully. “Thank you, I believe I would like that very much.”

Chris plonks a shot of fire whiskey before us both and we clink our glasses together. “May your hearts magic beat together, forever.” I raise my glass to her engagement in the old wizarding tradition. I may not yet be considered a friend of Davis’, but I think we understand each other a little better and we might get there eventually.

** Hermione  **

Its been a long day but whats happening before my eyes in the low lights of the chinz lamps at Privet Drive, is beyond anything I could have comprehended even a week ago. 

Dawn is peeking over the horizon and its neck and neck between Ginny and Draco at Wizards Poker, 3 games won each. The rest of us gave up trying as soon as we realised how competitive they were, neither bowing down to pressure from the other. I sling back my fifth much needed fire whiskey and it gives me the courage to slide onto Draco’s lap, my arms around his neck and my head on his shoulder. “Baby, I need to sleep.” I tell him.

“I’m nearly finished, this is the decider, I have her on the ropes I know it.” He kisses my neck and peers at his cards behind my back.

“But, I’m tired.” I whine. Good Godrick, I never thought I’d see the day that I’d do something like that, and to Malfoy of all people, but I am exhausted and I don’t want to sleep alone, so I resort to trying to get my way in the most childish way possible.

“Alright princess.” He stops and kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Red, you’ve won this time, let’s just say I’ve got a better offer.”

“Ugh, please don’t even think of shagging, our beds are less than a foot away from yours.” Ginny grimaces.

** Draco **

“Never heard of a muffilato or disillusionment spell? We could do it and you’d never know.” I smirk.

Hermione slaps me, but I can see she’s suppressing a giggle, “Don’t tease her, we won’t be doing anything of the sort.” 

I lift up the covers on the rickety looking cot and usher Hermione in, waggling my eyebrows at Ginny, who huffs and gets into her own bed, her eyes slitted as she gives me a dirty look. Ron and Tracey are giggling drunkenly as they too get into their small cot-bed and Harry jumps onto his, almost breaking it. 

“If anyone snores, they’ll be getting a pillow thrown at their heads.” Ginny warns us all, causing scattered laughter.

“Night me lord, and night all.” Chris bids us adieu and heads upstairs to check on the children. As soon as he leaves, I hear the soft padding of tiny feet on the stairs and the whine of Baxter, who must’ve been sleeping with the kids. He nuzzles my hand and then jumps into the crook of my arm, licking my face and settling in the smallest gap he can find. I’m in the most uncomfortable position ever, Hermione under one arm, with her head on my chest as she begins snoring almost immediately and Baxter under the other, his tail smacking against my leg. Somehow, I don’t care whether I’ll wake up with a crick in my neck in the morning, it just seems right to have them sleeping with me like this. 

I close my eyes, listening to deep breathing as everyone settles. They must trust and accept me enough to sleep in the same room as me and that causes my chest to bloom with warmth. I hear a fart from Ron’s direction and smile to myself; Davis doesn’t know what she’s in for, marrying a man with so few manners. Disgusting as it is, it reminds me a little of the good times I had in my earlier years in the dorms at Hogwarts, except now I have new friends, none of them snakes in the grass, and this time only one may feel inclined to murder me in my sleep, the one who warned us all not to snore but yet sounds something like a sleeping mountain troll herself. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I love hearing from you.  
> Sending hugs to @badwolfjedi for her beta work <3

**Draco**

I'm on my side and I wake to feel Hermione’s arse wriggling against my cock. "Please don't do that, princess." I groan, scrubbing my face with my hand. 

She moans in reply and I know she's still asleep and unaware of her actions.

"Yes, especially since the Minister is here, Malfoy, I'd suggest it probably would be best if you got up and had this instead." 

Potter’s somehow bright eyed and bushy tailed, although Salazar knows how. He's holding a large mug out to me. "Coffee?"

"Muggle coffee? Err, Weasley seems to think it's nectar of the gods and I don't believe much, but he generally seems truthful." It's the strangest feeling being looked down upon by the Minister and Potter while I'm in bed with Hermione, truly, I can't explain how odd it feels. Baxter yips and rushes to nip at the Ministers ankle grouchily, I glance at my watch and it's only barely six.

Kingsley chuckles, lifting his robes and eyeing the dog at his feet. "That dog loves everyone else but I think he has a vendetta against me."

"I apologise, I haven't had much time to train him. Baxter, heel!" I call grumpily and he instantly stops, gazing lovingly at me and wagging his tail like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. "You don't need to speak to all of us then?" I query, scrubbing at my gritty eyes with the backs of my hands.

"I think it's best to speak to you first, the first trial is this morning at ten and it's Percy Weasley’s. I've been with Molly and Arthur all night. Molly—well, there's no easy way to say this, she wants to see you and she's requested you accompany her on a visit to see your father in Azkaban before the trial takes place, I've allowed special dispensation."

I'm fucking knackered, I've had an hour’s sleep at most, and the thought of dealing with the Weasley matriarch and my father is exhausting and a little terrifying. She was the witch who managed to decimate my crazy aunt after all. I ease my arm out from under Hermione's head gently, she lets out a whimper of complaint but turns over, beginning to snore. My life is going to be filled with her cute snoring and I visualise performing many muffliato charms in my future.

"The Cornish pixies say no!" She mutters.

"I know they do, but needs must, princess." I lean down to kiss her cheek as she takes hold of my pillow and wrangles it under her head. Somehow that calms me, like Hermione knows I have to go and doesn’t want me to leave.

Kingsley and Harry chuckle and I snort lightly, "She has a thing about those Pixies."

"No surprise there, she was the one who used the immobulus on them when Lockhart buggered off and left us. Actually, didn't you run away too?" Harry pursed his lips to hold in laughter.

"Well, all I can say, Potter, is you three idiots were the only ones who stayed. The bloke was always a blatant fake with no real talent apart from the gift of the gab; my father told me so as soon as we walked in the shop in first year. I heard you obliviated the wanker, isn't he St Mungo’s ward for total pricks?"

Potter begins to turn puce as he struggles to hold in his laughter and flees the room to keep quiet, so as not to wake the others. I look up at the Minister and his face is stoic. "I apologise, Minister, this is not a time to joke. How is Mrs Weasley?" 

"Surprisingly good. She'd had suspicions about the behaviour of her son for some time, late night comings and goings, stray comments and such. She admitted she had noticed things and brushed them off as nothing but silly talk after the loss of Fred. Arthur owled me to visit the Burrow at midnight and we all talked about a lot of things. They were alone with so many members of the Order dead and they felt they had nobody to turn to. I think Molly has turned a corner in her grief, and she visited George early this morning. Angelina sent an owl to them last night regarding her concerns for his mental state, but it seems he’s doing better after the talk with Angelina and his mother. Molly and I were always very good friends in the years since the first war and I fear I let her down when I became Minister." He swallows deeply, “There just isn’t the time anymore, Draco, but that changed when Hermione came to work for me. I admit I’ve missed her organisation and work ethic this week.” He gives her an affectionate look.

I finish putting my trainers on. "I've heard Mrs. Weasley can be kind but also protective when it comes to her children. Am I in for it?" I ask honestly, loathe to reveal how worried I am about meeting her.

"I don't believe that's her intension, Draco, I think she just wants to hear the truth for herself, she's going to meet us at the prison."

Harry's waiting for us the hall, “If the coffee didn’t do it mate, the North Sea wind will.” He smirks.

We apparate to Azkaban, I just wish I'd been able to tell Hermione where we're going.

....

 

At the entrance to the forbidding prison, a kindly, but exhausted face greets us, grey streaked red hair peeking from the hood of a brown cloak. Mrs. Weasley looks older than I remember but then she has had a hard few years.

I'm astonished as she comes to me first, placing both hands on my cheeks and patting them with a watery grin.

"I hear you're Hermione’s sweetheart now. You look piqued and you need a good meal, but you've always been a good-looking chap, rather like your father and he had no shortage of admirers when he was young, I’ll tell you.” She smiles thoughtfully and I wonder if she was one of them once. “I must admit though, I always thought she and Ron, there was a time—" She glances away wistfully, "But he's with Tracey now and she's such a lovely girl, I'm pleased he's found someone who's right for him and has helped him settle down, he was so lost after everything and now this has happened, I just hope this doesn’t throw him off course again." She gives a barely visible shake, like she’s trying to gather herself together.

"Mrs Weasley, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Percy—" I have to say something, to acknowledge my part in all this.

She turns with a resigned look, stopping me in my tracks. "You may call me Molly and it's not you who should apologise for this, nor who I need to speak to, young man.” Her voice is gentler than her words, “I'm sorry if I've brought you here under any false pretences, or that you may not want to see Lucius, but I need to hear it from your father’s mouth and I need to know it was Percy, beyond a doubt." 

“I understand, Mrs. Weasley, the Minister has explained and no, it is not a problem to see my father, he is that after all.” I don’t tell her I’ve seen him already; she obviously doesn’t know what we’d been up to during the past week.

“You’re a good boy, Draco, better than you know. Shall we go?” She cups my face in an almost loving way and I nod, marvelling at this woman who has such capacity for acceptance.

I walk first up the familiar stone steps to my father’s cell, the frigid cold whipping over the North Sea and surging through the occasional arrow slit window. I shiver as the guard opens the door and we four enter with me heading our little crew.

"Good morning, Father." I greet him, suppressing a smirk as he looks up in astonishment from the threadbare blanket he lays under. He looks like he wasn't sleeping anyway.

"Draco, my son, much as it's a pleasure to see you again so soon, please do tell me what I have done to merit such an early morning call? Is a man not to be allowed his rest while sequestered in squalor from society?" My father raises an eyebrow in a way which says he is not amused, yet his mouth quirks. He looks better than the last time I'd seen him, he's been shaved, and his hair is cleaner, but his clothes are still as shabby.

"Lucius." Molly rushes forwards to greet him grimly.

"Ah, I now see the reason for your early morning visit. Mrs Weasley, Potter, Minister—" He nods, pushing his bedclothes aside as he stands to his full height, his feet bare as he places them on the cold stone floor. My hands are frozen so his feet must be cold as ice, yet he doesn’t show it.

"We were once friends, before Hogwarts, before any of this." Molly flails her hands.

"That is true." He eyes me and gives the briefest smile, "You were a—you _are_ a cousin of mine, I suppose we're all related in some way, us purebloods, the sacred twenty-eight as once we were, although I believe you are more closely related to my wife." He glances at Kingsley and I wonder if they all knew each other as children. I can’t imagine my grandfather holding children’s parties at the manor, but then I’ve never asked much about Abraxas, all I know is his portrait terrified me when I saw it as a child, he looked like a hard bastard and I never ventured close enough to speak to him.

"I deserve the truth then, don’t you think?" She leans to hold herself against the wall of the cell, her shoulders shaking as if all the fight in her is gone. Harry moves to console her, placing his arm around her and my father clocks his movement immediately. He looks to the floor, his polite mask gone, contrite just like he was when we last saw him. 

"Mr Potter, I must only take from your support of Mrs. Weasley that your original suspicions were correct regarding the way we were imprisoned?" 

Potter nods as Mrs. Weasley lets out a sob.

“Mr. Malfoy, you will be brought forth for a retrial depending on the outcome of today’s proceedings.” Kingsley informs him.

I can't believe my eyes as my father almost ignores the Minister to reach out and take Molly’s hand, leading her to sit on the bed. She resists momentarily but her legs wobble, then she allows it. Harry sits protectively beside her.

"Molly, firstly I must apologise for my fatuousness in giving your daughter the Dark— _Voldemort’s_ diary,” He enunciates, “I have meditated deeply on it ever since that day and I know it was disgraceful of me, to give a child such an artefact—" His voice breaks and he clears his throat, "I'm a despicable human being and I'm ashamed of myself, as I am for many an act I undertook. There is no excuse for my weakness, for allowing that creature to create such prejudice and death in our world. I know I will never redeem myself but my son, my only son is—" He closes his eyes, attempting to compose himself. I’ve only ever seen him do this before Voldemort when I knew he was afraid that what he was about to say was going to cause him to rage at him. “Draco means everything to me, I want him to have a good life, not like mine—o-ours, filled with loss and hatred for others. I’ve had time to reflect on this and I will do anything to ensure it happens.”

“You are sure Percy is the one who did this, t-there is no doubt?” Her breath hitches.

“Madam, I was given Veritaserum, the Wizangamot have been given my memories, it was Percy, without a doubt.” My father looks saddened to say it.

Tears flood down Molly’s cheeks and she holds one hand to her mouth to suppress a sob, while squeezing my father’s hand tightly with the other. I move to stand beside father and place a tentative hand on his shoulder. I expect him to be cold, like this cell, this place, like I thought his heart was once, but he is warm to the touch.

"My brothers, Lucius. I've never had the opportunity to ask, I never knew what happened to them. Was it you who killed them?" She closes her eyes, awaiting his answer.

I feel him shudder under my hand.

"I've committed many crimes, Mrs. Weasley, but that was not one of them. I’m afraid he did it. He called them blood traitors. I'm extremely—" He lowers his head in shame, gripping his hands together but doesn’t complete the apology. From the angle I stand at, I see his Adams apple bob as he swallows. 

"This Dark Figure, this group who used their position to hurt Purebloods, do you blame them for their acts?" She sniffles lifting her head and looking him right in the eye. I must pay credence to Molly, she has an aptitude for warmth, but clearly no qualms about confronting the issue head on.

Kingsley shifts beside me, I know he's trying to remain impartial but there's only so far that can go before he must step away. After all, he will judge the trials.

"Not at all, they beat me, and I felt I deserved it. I'm sorry one of them was your son, I would lie if I felt it would make things right for you, spend my life here, because I've hurt people, I've been a disgrace of a man. I've heard from Hermione, Draco and Harry—" Harry's eyes dart to Lucius' when he calls him by his given name, "that those people wanted to kill purebloods and I understand this will never end unless I stand up for what is right. I must tell the Wizangamot what happened, even if I must still remain here for the rest of my life. I must do it to right every wrong, I do it for my son, to ensure he has a good life with Hermione, and I do it for a society that will not allow this to happen again. I, like you, cannot take another war."

She stands, causing my father to also stand. She tilts her chin up at him as he towers over her. "I'm sure I will never forgive you for the decisions you made, Lucius, but I am nothing if not a mother, I will make sure Draco is taken under our wing, for we lack one son who’s in the ground and another will likely join you here shortly. I will give you that, your son will be loved by our family, just as Hermione is."

Molly turns to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "You and your mother will always be welcome at the Burrow. Should your father be released, we will discuss the situation again,” she glances back at him, “perhaps we will find it within our hearts to accept him too, he will have paid his debt to society by then and may be in need of our help to reintegrate."

My eyes shoot to my father’s and they're as shocked as mine. She's bid me to ensure he feels loved, whether or not he deserves it. Her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met, and I can barely see through unshed tears as she hobbles out of the room on Potter’s arm, followed by the Minister, leaving us alone.

"Father, I will do what I can for you." I bite my lips together, feeling like an emotional outpouring is probing at my gullet.

"Forget me,” He says, following a moments silence, “what will be, will be. Just enjoy your life with the lovely Hermione, I confess it is a shame she could not join us, her kindness is second to none, but also is Molly’s, she was always special as a child in that way and Hermione reminds me of her somewhat."

"I will come again, father, I will bring some books for you next time, I’ll bring whatever you need."

"I appreciate that, my son, but company is the—If you, or your mother, could see your way to—"

I feel awkward under his gaze and walk to the door, hesitating. I purse my lips and quickly turn, striding back to him and giving him a brief hug before leaving. I know Hermione would do that for him and perhaps it is human affection he misses rather than just company.

As the lock turns and I'm released, he says "Don't let her go, cherish her, you only get one chance at life and love and she is it, Draco."

 

**Hermione**

The others are asleep when I hear the front door close. Draco’s gone and so is Harry, thinking they were being quiet but then laughing like a bunch of hyenas in the hallway, well, Harry mainly.

“Ugh, why did I drink so much?” Ginny rolls over, throwing the blanket over her head. Ron and Tracey are sleeping like the dead and that amuses me as Ron as clearly found his match.

“Kingsley has been here. He’s taken Draco and Harry to Azkaban.” I tell her what I overheard.

“What?” She hisses, “Harry’s done nothing wrong!”

“No, you misunderstand me—hang on a minute, you think Draco does?” I narrow my eyes at her. Her hair is mussed, last nights sleek ponytail hanging out of its tether near her ear. I dread to think what I look like, but my eyes are sore and I’m sweaty at the nape of my neck where my curls are squashed against my shoulder.

Her forehead raises as she realises what she’s said. “No, that’s not what I meant at all, I thought you said they’d been taken to prison?”

She seems upset at my accusation, so I tut under my breath and keep my peace for the greater good. “No. What I meant was, they’ve gone to Azkaban to meet your mother and speak with Lucius. I think they meant me not to hear but they were about as quiet as Snape on one of his better days.”

She scrambles over onto my bed, rousing Baxter who has taken Draco’s place beside me, spread out and comatose in exhaustion, poor little pup. He lifts his head briefly and I pet him as he nods off again. “Baxter’s tired, probably grief stricken. Percy,” I gulp back tears, “Percy killed my neighbour, he was her dog and Molly needs to find out the extent of his crimes, Kingsley said he’d been with your parents all night.” I blurt quickly because I don’t want to say it at all.

Her face drops, and she stares at Baxter. “I’m so sorry about that and I’m so sorry about last night too, I was frantic, I couldn’t believe it was true, I should never have doubted you.” She reaches for my hand and I take it between my own, rubbing it amiably between my palms. I know her well enough and she would never act the way she did last night without good reason, it just hurt at the time because we were all devastated by what had happened and she didn’t believe me, she just wanted to blame Draco. “I needed you—I need you, because you’re my best friend.”

She drops her head, “I know Ron and Harry are your real best friends, but you’re mine, you’re the only person I know I can rely on to understand me and I buggered things up by rushing in and accusing you and Malfoy of something that wasn’t true.”

She’s crying and I’m crying. Baxter yips as we embrace, annoyed to be disturbed again. “It’s alright, I’m always here for you, you mean so much to me Ginny, the boys—yes they’re my best friends, but they don’t understand me like you do, you know you’re my best girlfriend.” I sob and she clutches me closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to tell you what was going on with me.”

Ginny chuckles, “I gave Malfoy hell over you, but he stood his ground, I was quite impressed.”

“I tried to beat the crap out of him, Gin.” We hear Ron speak up hoarsely, he’d clearly been listening. “Hermione bound me and wouldn’t let me go until she’d told me off worse than mum would. She gave me bacon rolls though, so it wasn’t all that bad.” He conceded.

“What? Is there breakfast? I’m starving.” Tracey pokes her head up and looks at us questioningly.

Ginny and I burst into giggles, hugging once more. We look up at the ceiling as we hear tiny footsteps begin running around at the mention of food. “Looks like we’re up and cooking breakfast.” I head to the kitchen and look back at Tracey. “Have you ever heard of the Coquus spell? I think you’ll need it if you’re going to marry this one.” I point at Ron.

“Oi! That’s out of order, I’d cook for my love if she wants me to.” He pouts, sitting up and running his hand through unruly red hair.

So, Draco thought I didn’t hear what little Peter told him when they were whispering in the kitchen at the tent, eh? He cooked the most wonderful breakfast, but he didn’t realise that’s my spell too, I just didn’t fancy cooking that morning, I grin to myself. “Well then Ron, are you going to get up and show your lady love how great you are at cooking her breakfast in bed, or not?”

He gives me a sullen look which changes swiftly as he turns to Tracey, “She’s talking out of her arse, Trace, I make the best bacon an’ eggs this side of muggledom.”

Chris flies through the door and hides behind me. “Please Hermione, my heroine, protect me from them, they wont stop jumping on me!” The children follow in fits of giggles and he gathers them up in his arms.

I know Chris Figg has had the time of his life this past few days and I meet his mothers’ eye as she enters, I think she has too. “I heard breakfast was being cooked by Ronald, I’m looking forward to it.” She sits expectantly at the table as Ginny and I stifle our laughter.

“I’m game.” Ron stretches as he rises, “and I’ll save you Chris, you can be my assistant.” He decrees.

“You are both goddesses but I’m afraid I have a better offer.” Chris kisses both our cheeks before almost running to kitchen to help.

“Morning my little ones,” Ginny sinks to her knees, “I’m Ginny Weasley and I think a game of hide and seek is in order before breakfast. Hermione can count and we’ll hide.” She beams, taking the children’s hands and running off.

My head is pounding, and I really need a hangover draft, but seeing ten little faces light up, all the children left here, I begin counting loudly. Mrs Figg comes over and hugs me gently. “One day you and Draco will have beautiful babies,” She remarks, “and you both will end all the sadness, the prejudice and repair all the harm that has been done in the wizarding world, I just know it.” She grips my arm and heads back to her seat at the table.

I swallow the lump in my throat before I head off to find them, finally feeling like I could be a mother in the future and I revel in their childish shrieks as I find them easily within the small house, taking each one into my arms to hug them close as I do.

 

**Draco**

We arrive back at Privet Drive along with Molly, she wanted to see the house Harry was brought up in, said she'd missed out on the rescues her husband and sons had taken part in and she needed to know Ron was okay before the trial. 

I find a bundle of children on the floor, rolling in fits of mirth over a mass of brunette curls at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hermione! You didn't find me, you cheated!" One yells.

"I most certainly did not! I could see your feet behind the curtains! Tiny little toes poking out from underneath!" She tickled a tiny boy.

We'd had a terrible morning but the sunshine in her smile soothes my soul. She looks up at me, dishevelled, her arms filled with children and it's almost like I see my future, like I hold an orb of prophecy in my hands. She stops and looks up at me breathlessly as the children rush into the other room at the sound of Ron Weasley calling them to breakfast.

Molly pats my arm as she passes, a knowing smile on her face. I barely feel the air move behind me as Potter and Shacklebolt follow, closing the door behind them.

"Did I ever tell you, you're beautiful?" I stride towards her as she rises, brushing herself off, "So beautiful, you took my breath away when I first walked through the door." I pull her to me, feeling her curves mould against me like they belong there. I'm instantly hard against her hip and I drop my head to smell sleepy scent at the nape of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter delightfully, and I reach to caress her pouting lower lip.

"Draco." She utters.

"You're everything to me, you must know that?" I murmur.

"I know, as you are to me, Draco."

"Then come with me, come and risk a few stolen moments at the manor, I have my wand, we can be back here again within half an hour." I pull at the belt of her jeans, my hand sliding over her mound, my fingers rotating over the fabric. She moans and pulls my head to hers for a deep kiss, our tongues writhing as they meet. She draws away.

"I need you, but we must be quick."

I apparate us immediately to my room in the manor, ignoring the mess left by Robards and his men, and the careless way my childhood things have been strewn around, I focus only on her. I take her face in my hands and kiss her again, my need to have and this overtakes any urge to find out what that evil, cancer has done to my home. 

"Draco, please, I want you." Her head lolls back as I push her against the door, shoving her jeans down and grinding my rock-hard cock against her mound. 

I ease into her knickers, feeling wetness against my fingertips and lift them to my lips, tasting ripe, salty peaches as I suckle her essence into my mouth.

"I thought you'd hurt me when I met you again." She moans as I return them to circle her clit, "But you've come into my life and given me everything, Draco, Godrick, my knees are weak, and I think I might fall." Her mouth betrays her, and I grasp her hips to hold her in place. "I try to restrain myself, but you make me feel like I'm alive when we're like this, you take all the hurt away." 

"You're so perfect, never stop yourself from giving me everything Hermione, I need to feel everything you're willing to give."

 

**Hermione**

His voice makes me weak and his lips, oh Merlin his lips touch my ear, trail my throat and I can't control myself. The spark of electricity he drew out from within me built into a blaze, driving me into a thundering frenzy. He kisses me with such passion I feel like I can't breathe, plundering my mouth as he grasps the hair at the nape of my neck.

"Hermione." He moans and my insides turn into a quivering mess, his mouth suckling my collarbone as he pulls my thigh to his hip, grinding into my core in the most delightful way. 

"What do you want? Tell me." He demands and I don't think I've ever been asked a question I couldn't answer, I want to tell him, but I don't want to be crass. 

"I want you to fuck me until I can't stand." Oops, I've been crude but the reaction I receive tells me it was the right thing to say. His mouth rushes to suckle my nipple as he shoves my shirt over my breasts, his hands pushing my lace bra up over my boobs. He holds them between his hands, alternating his attention between each one. 

"Draco, I..."

He leans back with a smirk, his eyes dark, with barely a rim of grey around the edge. "Tell me, princess, say it again, I'm so fucking turned on, tell me you want my cock inside you."

"I do, I want you to make me feel like you did last time, like I might shatter into a thousand pieces." I sigh, my chest rising and falling rapidly until I'm not sure I can catch my breath. 

"And remind me about how you touched your pussy at school while thinking about me." 

I'm almost drunk on his words, "I-I touched myself, you know I did." 

"Who did you think about? I want to know exactly."

"Oh, fuck, it was you, sweet Circe, I want you, please don't tease me, I want you and only you." I cry out as his fingers begin to slowly circle my clit again, almost killing me with the emptiness of not having him inside me. 

My begging was enough, he dropped to his knees, smothering his mouth over my core, his tongue taking me to the same dizzy heights I had only experienced for the first-time days before. 

He leans back and trails a finger over my outer folds, his fingers drifting to my strip of downy hair, watching my reactions to him as I close my eyes and smack my head against the door, my lashes fluttering as he parts my labia. I lick my lips and my legs quiver. 

 

**Draco**

I feel myself harden more than I ever thought possible as she licks her full lips, parting them with a whisper of a moan, her legs shaking under my onslaught. The taste of her sweet arousal makes me want to fuck her into the mattress of the bed I fantasied about her in when I was at school and I spread her open like a delicate orchid, running my tongue from top to bottom as her sweet essence runs onto my tongue, I slurp greedily, plunging my tongue inside her. 

Her hips grind on my face, surging forward and seeking the friction she's so desperate for and I settle her, with a hand on her lower belly.  

"Oh, Draco, please let me cum." She cries out and I move my fingers inside her, desperate to hear it. I feel her begin to flutter, standing as quickly as possible, cupping her bum and and thrusting inside her swollen pussy as she yells with pleasure, strangling and throbbing over my length as I fuck her with wild abandon, pumping my seed inside her within seconds. 

Soaked with sweat, our noses meet, and we kiss, pressing our foreheads together. "I don't think I'll ever get over how good this is between us." I gasp, kissing her softly.

"It's almost like we were meant to be, isn't it?" She smiles against my lips and I kiss her deeply, trying to tell her yes, that I never want to let her go.

"Do you think they've missed us?" She's still gulping for air.

“Maybe? I’m not sure we were all that subtle. We’d better go, Weasley will have eaten all the breakfast if we don't get back. I don't know about you, but I'm famished." I pull her close once more. There will surely be a day when I get my wish to take her to bed and make her scream until she can’t walk, but unfortunately it won’t be today.

Dressing, we make ourselves presentable before returning to Privet Drive. The trials will begin this morning and we haven’t much time to prepare. I, for one, am dreading setting foot inside the chamber once more and the dragon of anxiety which is furled inside my belly stretches and grumbles at the reminder of my own trial. To know my own testimony might be sending another possibly to the kiss causes me to shiver, because I know it could once so easily have been me.

We walk into the kitchen hand in hand.

“Um, we had some business to attend to.” Hermione blushes and Chris whistles from the table, a small child on his lap who he’s coaxing to eat a piece of sausage.

“I hope your business had a satisfactory outcome.” Ron leers, earning a slap to the back of his head from his mother and a stern look.

“Oi! That hurt.” He yelps.

“Then you’ll learn to keep your rude opinions to yourself, Ronald.” She replies, chuckling.

“You look like you could do with feeding up, dears.” Molly places a full English breakfast in front of each of us as we sit down, pouring us tea in large white mugs. I note Molly seems in her element, her woes forgotten for a moment while she does what she does best, caring for others, and my fears lessen while in her presence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, this chapter has taken me a while because I started Uni a few weeks back and everything's been so hectic. I'll try my best to update more regularly and keep you updated on tumblr.  
> Thanks as always to my amazing beta @badwolfjedi <3

 

**Hermione**

Although none of us wanted to leave the children at Privet Drive, Kingsley finally told us the truth about them and it dampened the afterglow of my coupling with Draco, almost like a freezing cold bucket of water had been poured over my head, leaving me regretting leaving and taking a moment with Draco, even though our thirty minute break would have made not a jot of difference to their situation. He told us the news of the children who remained at Harry’s house. The poor mites were orphans and had nowhere to go for the time being and it was like a stab in the gut when we’d worked so hard to get them home safely. Of course, I knew it was a possibility that not all their parents survived and that’s a life lesson I’ve learned the hard way during war time, I don’t know why I didn’t expect it now. Not many know this, but there are two sides to me and there have always been two versions of events in contrast with each other as they occur, firstly the reaction of the muggle girl who is forever eleven and who read of heroes and villains and fairy princesses, the girl who hopes for a romanticised version of events and a happy ending and secondly there’s the practical girl, now a woman, who systematically files my thoughts into tiny filing cabinets in my brain, the one who knows there is darkness and chaos and hurt in the world. This time I thought all would be well because we’d saved those tiny children and brought the baddies to justice, then I’d get to ride off into the sunset with my lover and never worry again. But its not so, and I berate myself for being even the tiniest bit hopeful it could be. Sometimes I wonder if the war ever taught me anything more than to hide both sides of myself from each other for fear of them meeting, because surely people who knew that romantic side of me would think of me as a silly and naïve girl and I would become a laughing stock. They know me as Hermione Granger the reliable one, Hermione who keeps a level head in a crisis, Hermione who keeps everybody on track with her bossy demeanour, but why can’t I dream occasionally that the world is a good place? I do, however, think twice about that thought, as its that exact complacency which got us into this mess in the first place. I want Draco to know me, though, I want him to see my softer side and I have a feeling he will accept it without question. I’m sick of packing up my emotions and thoughts to mull over on another day, but as always, the time is never right. I take the bloody list I’ve made in my mind of things to reflect upon and I metaphorically set it on fire.

When we arrive at the lower levels of the Ministry, Draco asks if I’m okay, his arm securely around my waist.

I nod, but these halls of justice are all too familiar to me and the weight of what’s about to occur feels like it will suffocate me. I leave him when Kingsley and Marta, his assistant, walk purposefully through the doors. Kingsley informed me beforehand that I would need to continue in my role as Apprentice secretary and I follow them, planting a kiss on Draco’s cheek and watching him stand on the other side of the doors as they close for the Wizangamot session, his eyes filled with concern.

The wizards and witches of the upper echelons file in, their judgements only presided over by Kingsley whom I trust with everything I am, but I know he cannot sway their decisions, only rule following the evidence being presented to him by the defence and prosecution.

Hearing chains clanking, my heart races as Percy is shown into the centre of the court, falling to his knees of his own accord and begging forgiveness. I'm alone, only here as Kingsley’s apprentice and I'll still be expected to testify against a man who is part of a family who’ve been nothing but kind and supportive to me over the years. Marta sits beside me and pats my arm. She's always been kind to me, but we don't have much of a personal relationship beyond that, still, she feels like an ally and I bloody need one right now, so I give her a watery smile of thanks.

The Weasleys are waiting outside along with Draco, Narcissa and Harry and I keenly feel their loss as the proceedings begin, especially Draco’s, but I think about him fleetingly and I know he’s probably doing the same.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley, you stand charged with high treason and attempted murder, how do you plead?" Kingsley booms.

"I plead not guilty sir, I-I, I'm sorry I want my mother to come. She'll tell you I'm good, she'll tell you I wouldn't do what you've accused me of!" He's yelling and crying, and I hold my hand over my mouth at the sight of someone I once cared about reduced to a mess of human emotion. Marta glances down at me through her pince-nez and then places her hand over mine. She can be stern, but she also feels compassion, I realise that and I’m grateful once more for her presence. 

"Mr. Weasley, control yourself! We have your memories and confession under Veritaserum!" Kingsley stands and smacks his gavel so hard I jump; his face is strained with emotion as he tries to continue. "Mr. Weasley, you were a trusted member of this court which is why we've done you the courtesy of not making you wait too long for the outcome of this court!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it." He implores, holding his hands together almost like he’s praying. His chains clank and close my eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

"The reason you are here is not to apologise to society but to be tried for your crimes. Do you understand that?" 

I open my eyes and glance at Kingsley. He looks tired and old, and I don’t blame him for that, because this is awful for us all and I feel like I’m one-hundred years old and have lived several lives over. Regardless, Kingsley remains professional and turns to Marta, “Please make sure it is noted that Mr. Weasley apologised for his crimes.”

"I can't go to Azkaban! My mother, she's already lost Fred, she won't be able to cope without me! I can't go to that place, I can't, c-can't!" He laments.

Kingsley looks again to Marta, "I believe we'll need a further psycho-magical assessment, please have Mr. Weasley removed from the court for now." He bangs his gavel and I struggle to hold myself together.

They take Percy away and bring in Robards, he’s locked inside a cage, just like the most dangerous Death Eaters were at their trials, clearly, they’re not taking any chances with him. I'm not prepared for the sight of him at all and begin to tremble. From my place close beside Kingsley he notices how distressed I am. "My apprentice will leave the court to gather papers for me, please have that noted." He gestures to Marta and gives me a wan smile and I rise to leave on shaky legs. I realise he's given me the chance to leave the proceedings, but I know I cannot tell the Weasley’s anything before we must enter our own testimony. I rush from the court purposefully, although I feel like I might collapse from the stress of being watched by those in power.

Once the doors close, I stagger and find myself in Draco’s arms. "It was terrible." I cry into his chest, "It brought back memories of you, I'm so—I can't cope, I can't face Robards, I can't do this." I'm desperate to run away, to just drink myself senseless and forget all of it. 

"You're stronger than you think, princess." I feel his words rumble through his chest as place my forehead on it. I want to crawl inside his skin and hide as he soothes my back, his hand circling under my shoulder blades, relieving my tension. "They’re counting on you and I'm counting on you to tell them exactly what we saw because everyone knows you're good, so pure of heart they would never disbelieve you. They have no reason to believe a reformed Death Eater, like me." 

But that isn't all I am. I'm not just some Virgin Mary. I know right from wrong, but the wizarding world didn't teach me that, my parents did, the muggle world, just as they did Draco. "That isn't all I am, I’m as capable of lying as the next person." I push back out of his arms, annoyed and folding my arms. I notice the others, along with the Weasleys are watching me carefully, as if I’m about to snap, or perhaps that’s paranoia of anxiety prodding inside my head.

George comes over, "I never thought I'd see the day you’d be shagging Malfoy." He hugs me tightly.

"George Weasley, would you put that girl down, she’s clearly not in the mood for your shenanigans!" Molly yells in exasperation but she ventures closer, clearly needing to know what I know.

"Sorry mother!" He calls over his shoulder, then leans to speak quietly in my ear, "The plan was to rile you, to remind you of who you are before you go up against Robards. They've been discussing how to do it for hours, they think you won’t deal with it, but I know better, I know that Gryffindor bravery won’t let you down." 

I begin to laugh. It's not appropriate, especially as I haven't been able to tell them what happened inside. I meet Molly’s eyes and she nods tearfully, knowing it wasn't easy for me to be in there; and she knew Percy’s trial was first. Still, she holds back, knowing I can’t answer any of her questions. Perhaps she's not ready to ask or she's happier now George is feeling better and has resigned herself to Percy's fate? I don’t know, but the pressure to tell them is immense.

George gives me a huge, sloppy kiss to the cheek and dances away, baiting Draco, who looks jealous as hell.

"Ooh, Malfoy, do I see a hint of the green-eyed monster?" 

Draco frowns but then a calculated smirk graces his face and he strides purposefully to George, grabbing his head and kissing him haphazardly on the lips. "I knew there was at least one Weasley I fancied!" He cackles with laughter and everyone stares in shocked silence before hooting with laughter. Even Molly and Arthur chuckle at his antics.

“Looks like Malfoy got one over on you there George!” Ginny giggles.

"Ugh, Malfoy lips!" George wipes his mouth and runs back to Angelina complaining and kissing her to prove to the others he in no way enjoyed his impromptu snog with the Malfoy heir.

Draco stalks back to me and grabs me, leaning me back over his arm like something from the old movies, snogging me senseless too. Godrick, could they be anymore male? The urge to prove they aren’t gay is just ridiculous.

"The lady doth protest, eh Hermione?" Harry guffaws, winking at me as I flush with embarrassment at Draco’s public display of affection.

Ron wanders over and claps Draco on the shoulder, “Thanks for breaking the tension, it was like a morgue out here. I remember during the war, the best times we ever had were during the worst times. We’d be melancholy but then someone would do something to ease the strain.” He turns to Harry, “Hey, Harry, do you remember that time you almost burned the tent down? Hermione was outside, Merlin, she would’ve had our balls for earrings if she’d found out.” Ron begins to laugh hysterically, slapping his thighs, with tears running down his cheeks.

In an odd change he becomes agitated and begins to sob, his chest heaving with emotion. Draco gives me an alarmed look and holds his hands open, at a loss at what to do. Clearly there’s fine line today between mirth and all out weeping. “Ron, oh, Ron.” I rush and gather him into my arms, “It’ll be alright, everything will be alright, I promise.”

Ron looks up sharply, tears running down his face. “You can’t know that, Hermione. My brothers in there being tried for war crimes and god knows what else, he’ll go to Azkaban, he might get the kiss for all we know, and we’re out here laughing like nothing ever happened.” He blurts angrily.

Tracey makes her way over and gathers him up in her arms. Things have turned from bad to worse. Molly and Arthur venture closer, Arthur’s arms protectively around his wife’s shoulders. Narcissa is standing behind Draco and she brushes a tear away as she watches Ron and Tracey.  I know I could tell them all what happened inside, but I feel sick and I couldn’t get the words out if I tried. I know I’m the Weasley’s only link between whats happened to their son, but I can’t tell them, I just can’t. Draco’s arms are open before I even look at him and I find myself enveloped in a huge hug.

 

**Draco**

My girl is stressed and shaking. Whatever happened inside has her desperate for a drink, I know it. I've begun to realise how she works, how that brain of hers shuts off for one reason and one reason alone, alcohol. She hides it well, I've got to give her that, but when you get close to someone you just notice, and sometimes I just wish I didn't, it would make things easier in the short term but not in the long. Something tells me this will all come to a head and she will fall. I'm here to catch her but, hey, I've learned in the past year there's only so much you can do for someone with and addiction and she may have to leave me for a while to do it for herself. The thought of being separated from her makes my heart hammer. I hug her close, because we're both as fucked up as each other and I know to be with her is going to be tough at times. Still, that doesn't mean we can't do this, it just means we’ll have to work harder than most. The one thing which terrifies me about any future rehabilitation she undertakes, is that they might say I’m the problem, but it won’t stop me getting her help, even if they do.

Her scent reaches my nostrils and I feel calm, knowing I have her here in my arms for now. Leaving her to go alone into the lion’s den was excruciating and her reaction was just as I suspected, she found it one of the hardest things she's ever done and I knew that as soon as I saw her face when she stumbled back through the doors. What I was looking at was my woman trying to hold it together, I realised she wanted to break down and sob her heart out and I wished we were elsewhere so she could let it go, just like she enabled me to when I needed it. She is something else, she's strong and a powerful witch, but her vulnerability was one of the things that attracted me to her from the very beginning. Not that she was weak, but in the way she was able to allow herself to experience her emotions like I never could as a teenager. I watched her all those years ago, a rose between Potter and Weasley, they were the thorns in the friendship triad, at least to me, but they've been good for her and good to me too, less thorny and now more the decent blokes I never expected them to be. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, when she was with them, they had no idea how to deal with her emotions, but they did. They hugged her and she glowed in their presence back then; but not so much as she does now in mine. I'm a prick, I know it, but that's what I love, that this woman who hated me once, now looks at me with more love than she did them. She draws out feelings I've never had from my very core and I thank her for it with every fibre of my being. 

When we jest, my sweetheart seems lighter. We muck about and I pretend to snog George Weasley. The atmosphere has been incredibly tense, and my mother arrives to see the joke, eyeing the chaos and pursing her lips, her eyes dancing as Weasley runs back to his beloved to secure his manhood once more. The sight is highly amusing.

My mother is poised and respectful as she stands beside Molly, and I watch her speak and drop her head to listen to Molly’s hushed words. The two women embrace and I'm shocked to say the least. My mother places her hand on Arthur's arm and his eyes fill with tears at her words, he nods but composes himself and I know my mother has made a difference, just like she always did for me when something awful happened as a child or young man. I wish I could hear what they're saying but Potter and Weasley have wandered closer, trying to lighten the mood. I understand why and I wish these people had been with me before my trial, it would've made things so much easier if they had been.

The doors open and an officious witch appears, dressed in a black suit. "The Wizangamot calls Draco Lucius Malfoy."

I start at her announcement. I didn’t expect to be called first and my heart’s thrumming against my ribcage. I barely notice as my mother rushes towards me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise we had so little time. I love you, son. I don't know if I ever told you that, not like this. Do us proud, and remember, I will always be here for you. You amaze me with your resilience." She speaks rapidly, clasping me to her tightly.

"It's her." I whisper into my mother’s hair. I know she’ll understand, she’s been so good about us both since she found out.

"She gives you strength, but you have that within you too, never forget that." She reaches for Hermione and draws her into our hug, "You two are powerful together, I saw it from the very first moment, my dragon. Hermione is the golden apple you protected as per the story of your name."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy is called! It will not do to keep the court waiting." The witch at the door insists.

Fuck, this could be it! This could be my downfall. They could say I deserved it, that I need to be imprisoned once more because I’ve broken the rules of my parole. I swallow back bile, glancing at Hermione for what I hope is not the last time.

"I love you, mother, take care of Hermione for me, whatever happens." I turn and kiss my loves brow before following the witch inside. 

"Draco!" I hear Molly’s voice call out as I walk into the court, "Remember what I said!"

"Draco! I love you!" Hermione calls out in an unsteady voice.

Her voice calms me, much as my mother’s did, and Molly Weasley feels like almost a second mother to me when I hear her words. Hermione’s resonate through my soul. I don't feel I deserve anything from any of them, but when walk into the Wizangamot this time I know I'm worthy of being there as a witness, because they believe in me.

_“Draco, I love you.”_ Echoes through my mind as the doors slam behind me and I'm shown to the stand, all of them staring at me in their weird hats.

I see Ms. Charpentier and Mr. Merriweather seated at the front, giving me a smile and nod as I grip the stand before me, my nails digging into the wood for support.

Robards glares at me from his cage in the centre of the court, and if looks could kill, he'd have murdered me ten times over. I deal with it by sneering back but I want to end this here and now, so Hermione doesn't have to deal with him. Alright, it's not possible, but it could be if I say the right thing.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy. You are here as witness for the prosecution in the trial of Gawain Thomas Robards." Kingsley calls. "I open up the floor to questions from the prosecution. Ms. Elenora Carrow, please precede."

At the name Carrow, I almost gasp but retain my posture, my pureblood breeding and mannerisms annoyingly keeping me in good stead for this occasion. How the hell can I be examined by someone from the family who attempted to rule Hogwarts and torture muggleborns?

"Minister and the magestical Wizangamot. I daresay Mr. Malfoy is dumbstruck to know I'm his opposing counsel, but I must say at this moment, I have not ever had any contact with my cousins in Azkaban, nor their family. I have practiced law for many years and Mr. Malfoy may be assured that I will always remain impartial. We all know Mr. Malfoy was tried as a Death Eater but was exonerated. Therefore, I vow to remain objective and discard any thoughts about his past, I also expect the Wizangamot to do the same."

She moves closer. I don't believe she has my best interests at heart but she flounces before the court in a believable way. 

"If you feel comfortable, Mr. Malfoy, I will continue." 

"If you must." I sigh, flicking my fingers towards her and sinking back into my seat arrogantly. She reminds me of the defence in my own trial, a mouth of treacle and a heart of darkness, someone with one selfish goal, to make themselves look good in a high-profile case.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would lead you to the events of the evening of the twenty first of September, when the court have been informed you allegedly saved Hermione Granger from an attack in Victoria Park, muggle London. Can you tell us how you happened to find yourself there? I must say it seems an unlikely place for someone such as you to be."

"Objection! The witness is not on trial here, he doesn't need to explain the reason for his whereabouts." Mr Merriweather calls.

"Of course, he is the antithesis of what he once was, or so we've been informed." Carrow retorts, her eyes on the crowd of wizards above her as she smiles sweetly.

"I will only warn you once more Ms. Carrow." The Minister cautions.

"Oh dear, I fear I have upset the Minister and for that I apologise. Mr. Malfoy is now a credit to society, he currently dates the woman he saved in the park and I know for a fact he finds himself rehabilitated from the views he once held, he admits that in his statement. Even the saviour of the wizarding world speaks up for him, Harry Potter himself. One must question whether the tight knit trio might stick up for the lover of one of their group. Strike that from the record, obviously, it is little more than conjecture on my part. Mr. Malfoy Could you tell me in your own words what happened that night?”

This bitch is out for my blood and I'm riled but I can't let Hermione down, so I relax back into my seat. "I heard a scream and I followed the sound. I found a woman being attacked by a hooded figure who appeared to me very much like a Death Eater."

"And why did you think that Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't believe I need to tell the court why I recognised someone who looked like a Death Eater, I think they're all aware that my father was one and he's currently in Azkaban, or that the Dark Lord resided in my house during the war."

"Quite. I believe you also bullied Ms. Granger for years before you took the Dark Mark, did you not?"

"Ms. Carrow, this is your final warning, we are aware of Mr. Malfoy's past, this is not a retelling of his history and I remind you Mr. Malfoy is not on trial here." 

"Forgive me Minister, I will ask the question in another way." She turns back to me, "How does your girlfriend feel about your mark, considering she was saved by someone who has the mark of the defeated?"

I expect an objection to that, but it appears everyone in the Wizangamot wants to know my answer, like a bunch of old gossips. I pause to think, Hermione is such an enigma, I'm not sure how to explain it. "We got to know each other properly and of course she knew of my mark; she is the most intelligent witch of our age as I’m sure you’re aware.” Sarcasm is dripping from my voice. “We came to the conclusion that we both had scars from the war, and she understood—no, she understands me and my reasons for taking the mark. I’ve found love can be magical when it hits you, there's something to be said about finding the one you want to be with always. I always wanted to be with her, it's why I grasped the opportunity with both hands when it presented."

"So, she accepted the word a man who was tasked with the death of her beloved Headmaster of Hogwarts?" 

I knew this was Carrow’s attempt to disparage Hermione's forthcoming testimony and I wait for an objection which never comes. I glance at Merriweather, but he urges me on with his chin. "No, she forgave a man who probably didn't deserve it.” I grit my teeth momentarily. “It certainly doesn't mean she's a pushover, she had a fire in her belly which drove us forward to identify a group who'd committed war crimes and continued to oppress a group of people without government knowledge and at great personal risk to herself. That's why we're here, is it not?” I wait for Carrow to acknowledge me and when she does with her beady little eyes, I continue. “She endangered herself and her reputation as a war heroine to bring justice to those children who were affected by Robards. I know they were mainly children who bore the terrors of war, much more than those at Hogwarts did, because I was there and I saw their terrified faces, I soothed their tears when they cried and I bloody well helped see to it that they didn’t have to suffer again." I’m breathless following my tirade and it’s on the tip of my tongue to berate the Carrow bitch for her idiotic line of questioning. Instead, I heave a sigh of relief when Carrow walks away saying she has no further questions. 

Merriweather stood and looked up to the witches and wizards above him, his arms strewn wide self-righteously. "So, you see, esteemed witches and wizards, I have no doubt, from Mr. Malfoys testimony, that he holds an adoration for Hermione Granger and don't we all?" There's an affectionate titter in the crowd. "Ms. Carrow has done her best to belittle Mr. Malfoy and his evidence, but you've all read the statements and you've heard what the Golden trio, Mr. Malfoy and the Minister have done to comfort the wronged children and their families." He walks towards me and plants his hands on the dock before me, staring thoughtfully at me for a moment before pushing away. He walks over towards Robards. "If we believe Ms. Granger as truthful, and Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley too, is there any reason for them to be brought before you? After all, each one of them agreed to be questioned under Veritaserum, we have all seen the evidence and we all know Robards and his followers are guilty via use of the same method."

"Objection!" Carrow retorts. 

"Overruled." The Minister retorts sharply, his eyes blazing. I never thought I’d respect the Minister so much, but he is a man not to be trifled with, as Carrow finds.

"I'm of the opinion that the Wizangamot should make their decision on the monster on trial here without subjecting the other witnesses to any further questioning. The war led to Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley testifying in hundreds of trials, as we all know, and I'm loathe to make them give unnecessary evidence if there is no need." Merriweather states and I’ve never been so in awe of a man in my life.

Kingsley nods. "I agree. It's a mere formality. The proof has been provided and we now only need to make a decision on Mr. Robards punishment. Please show your hand if you object to my decision. You know me to be fair and accepting of your opinion and if I receive any objection’s we will move to a secret ballot."

I look up, and there is no single objection and I lean forward, placing the heel of my hand on my clammy forehead. Thank fuck.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may leave the court. We thank you for your testimony and we ask you to tell Miss Granger and the others that they may also leave, that they are no longer required. We may find the need to call upon you for further assistance but for now your time may better be employed in seeking out Miss Granger and your mother and perhaps getting to know your new cousins." 

"Thank you Minister." I smile genuinely and shoot Robards a dark look as I walk, hearing only my shoes clacking on the polished floor. He’s eerily silent and I know if he doesn’t receive the kiss for his crimes, there is a chance he’ll come after us. I just hope he never gets the chance.

"Now," I hear as I exit, "we have a decision to make about what to do with the ringleader..."

The doors close behind me before I hear the end of his sentence.

I’m somewhat shell shocked as everyone rushes towards me. Hermione stands opposite me, her eyes filled with apprehension and the whole room seems to disappear, the questions and noise seems to filter away as I look at her. I stride towards her and take hold of her upper arms. “I did it, they don’t need any of you, Robards is about to receive his sentence!”

She lets out a yip of joy and jumps into my arms, kissing me fervently. Now I know I’ve finally made some recompense for Hermione and Potter standing for me in my trial and I finally feel free, because I was believed by the highest court in the wizarding world. I barely notice the doors behind me opening and Kingsley taking the Weasleys aside to give them news of Percy. All I see is her, feel is her, and it’s all I want for the rest of my life.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last posted and I apologise but RL and Uni have been top priority for me. I will continue to update and if all is well I might be able to get a chapter to you fortnightly or monthly. I've missed these guys and it's so great to be able to immerse myself in this world again after all the graft I've been doing on historical fiction for class.
> 
> **WARNING**Please be aware that there are discussions about alcohol, rehab and addiction along with an unfounded accusation of paedophilia in this chapter. If these are triggers for you then you may need to skip this chapter but you're welcome to contact me for a summarised version of events if that helps.

 

**Hermione**

  
Many changes have occurred over the past few months, the first of which was my time in muggle rehab. It took a lot to admit I have a problem and Draco sat me down when I thought I was at breaking point after the trials and asked me to make a big decision. Well, his exact words were, 

  
“I love you Hermione and I think you’re at the point where you need to think about your future. Look, it’s a future I want to feature in, and I’ll always be here to support you, but there are some things you can only do for yourself. I don’t know anyone close to you who would think any differently of you for asking for help, and if you decided you needed to get away for a while and get a handle on your problems, they would support you wholeheartedly.” 

  
He avoided out right telling me he thought I was an alcoholic, but I know that’s what he thinks. It was a huge risk on his part as I could’ve taken offense and hexed him, all while denying my problem. Luckily, I didn’t and sensibly registered how it’s taken until now to come to terms with how I’ve used alcohol as unhealthy coping mechanism. Draco was so much better at this than me, he told me he’d be there waiting for me if I decided to go and that he would also abstain from alcohol to help me get used to a life without it when I returned. I, of course, could make no such declarations, because I knew I had a long road to recovery ahead of me and I wasn’t sure if I could maintain a relationship, let alone make promises about the future, because I knew to do that would be foolish. So, it was left hanging, our relationship. I didn’t say yes or no to a future with him before I left, which was only right, for me at least.

  
To say it’s been a hard three months is an understatement. Stripping oneself emotionally bare in front of strangers was the hardest thing I’ve ever done along with questioning my reasons for becoming an alcoholic. Being away from Draco and my friends for so long has been desperately lonely, I’ve built relationships in rehab which I’ll probably maintain for the rest of my life, but being away from the people I love was the worst part, not the vomiting and sweats of withdrawal or the abstinence from everything including my beloved coffee, though I missed them badly. I’m not sure what made me decide to do a three-month stint. Mainly it was because I wanted to do it right, I wanted to go there and never return, never to darken those terrifying doors again, because I, Hermione Jean Granger, am nothing but focussed when I put my mind to it and I’d feel I’d let myself down if I didn’t give it my all, not to say everyone else.

  
I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past months and one thing is for sure, I’m stronger now than I ever felt in the aftermath of the war or during the time when the Dark Figure Group began to follow Draco and me. I’ve found that stress is my trigger and I’ve had a ton of that since I was eleven, steamrolling me as I tried to overcome hurdles many other students didn’t have to face. I just didn’t know it affected me that way but my need to retain control is a large factor. Looking back, I was relied upon heavily by Harry and Ron to be the one with the answers, and I forced myself to be the one who shot her hand up in class like a rocket every time. But, through therapy and group work, I learned it’s okay not to have all the answers all of the time, it’s okay to allow others to pick up the slack and it’s okay not to work myself ragged because I have this ingrained need to prove myself. It’s meant some life changing decisions, mainly that I will no longer be working for the Ministry and also the need to decide whether I need to work at all. I want to ask Draco if we can travel for a year while we both make some important decisions regarding our life together, because at no point, have I ever considered that I won’t be with Draco. He and I are tied together now, our fates entwined as well as our hearts. I love him with everything that I am and never thought I’d have that with someone, it almost seemed unattainable for someone like me before, and my therapist told me I’d talked myself into believing I wasn’t worthy of love. Now I’ve found it, I’ve grasped it with both hands and held on tight.

  
Then there was the subject of my childhood bully himself, my therapist really wasn’t happy about then relationship, she asked me so many questions about Draco, like, did I think I was in a relationship because I felt I couldn’t do better, was the relationship abusive, or the classic, did I feel I deserved his harassment because somehow it helped me retain control. I know, right? Obviously all the answers took some explaining and required me to delve into the real reasons I was with Draco, but even as I spoke I defended him, I defended us, because I know he’s changed and I wouldn’t be with him if he hadn’t. 

  
My therapist and detox specialist were concerned about my budding relationship as they don’t generally advise addicts enter into a relationship for some time after rehab as they are too vulnerable, but I know I’d be more vulnerable without him, I know he can’t make me well but he’ll be there and I know he’d do anything to help me. I was so adamant we’d be together that there was nothing they could do about it and I secretly felt that was a victory for us as a couple, because if they believed me then I knew I’d held myself accountable for my actions. Yes, I’m still as stubborn as ever. Anyway, it helped, telling them that, because they began to help structure my recovery around him being in my life.

  
So, anyway, here I am, suitcase in hand, walking out the same door I came in, and I feel like a new person, I feel some of my old optimism return now my brain is untarnished by the fog of addiction. There has only been intermittent contact between Draco and I over the course of the past months and I haven’t seen him since he came to meet with my therapist on family day. The centre would normally invite family rather than a new boyfriend and, unfortunately, the meeting went as badly as I expected. Draco got defensive when they asked whether he was capable of supporting me through all this. Of course, in true Malfoy style he stood and stalked the room and I admit, and, awful as it was, I wanted to laugh and run into his arms. He was angry because he loves me and hates his head being invaded by strangers after what he went through during the war, regardless whether they be muggles asking questions or Death Eaters needling at his mind using Legilimency. There was the insinuation he might not be there for me in the long term, which made his cheeks flush and his eyes darken. Unfazed, my therapist asked him to sit and she explained the difficulties of living with a person in recovery. He listened, asking the odd question and relaxing somewhat when I took his hand in mine. We had an hour together afterwards and spent it walking hand in hand to the beach behind the centre in virtual silence for some time. Then he spoke. 

  
“Tell me you’re alright here, princess, they’re treating you well?”

  
“Well, it’s no walk in the park, Draco, but yes, they’re good people, professional and supportive.”

  
“Good, good.” He said thoughtfully, kissing my forehead. 

  
I wanted more than a peck on the head, but rules stated there was to be no physical contact other than hand holding and embracing. He was silent as we walked on, his thumb brushing the palm of my hand as the sun dipped below the horizon, the only sound was the waves lapping a few feet away. We were limited in what we could talk about, he wasn’t allowed to tell me anything about the outside world and I could see him struggling for something to say.

  
“I miss you.” I uttered, my eyes on his, feeling my heart swell when his slate eyes softened, and he smiled.

  
“I miss you too, princess.” 

  
We sat on the beach and watched the sunset, me seated between his legs, with his arms wrapped securely around my waist, stroking my torso gently with his thumbs until the hour was up. I cried when he left, and I could see he was on the verge of tears himself. He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “Not long now, be strong, sweetheart, I love you.” And then he was gone and the gap he left was huge.   
Thinking back on it, I don’t know why we didn’t feel we could say anything meaningful but then neither of us had ever dealt with anything on this scale before. I tried not to read too much into it, but it was hard because I felt so lost and alone while I was away from him and my friends. 

  
That was a month ago, so I have no idea whether he’ll be here waiting for me or if someone else might be here, like Harry or Arthur with his muggle car.  
I walk to the gates and notice they aren’t secured, probably because people come to rehab of their own free will and can leave any time they wish, it’s not like I’ve been held prisoner. The elderly guard tips his hat and wishes me good luck and I note his job seems to be keeping people out rather than in, when he stops a car which drives up to the gates. 

  
My disappointment at the car not being there for me dissipates as a ray of sunshine bursts through the clouds and I tilt my head to feel it on my face, revelling in its warm caress on my skin. It feels like an omen for good, like I’m bursting back into the world too and this is the beginning of the rest of my life, I feel like I could walk a sun filled road until the end of my days. I can’t say I’m not anxious about leaving or terrified I’ll slip back into old habits, but I have thirty meetings in thirty days to attend and there will be people at those groups who understand how I feel because they’re going through the same thing themselves. 

  
My heart skips a beat, I’ll be seeing Draco soon and, oh, how I’ve missed him. As if sensing I’m thinking about him, the man himself steps out from behind a large oak tree on the large avenue of Lithocarpus. Sometimes I wonder why I overcomplicate things by needing to remind myself of the Latin for things in nature, but after dissecting every aspect of my personality, I’m comfortable to know that’s just me, it’s just what I do. There’s only farmland and woods surrounding the facility, so I assume he’s taken a chance and apparated here. I expect his trademark smirk but instead I receive a genuine smile that rivals that the sun gracing the sky. Slowly, he begins to walk towards me, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I drop my case and run, throwing myself into his arms and burying my face in his neck as he catches me and pulls my legs around his waist. 

  
“Missed me, did you?” He chuckles and the feeling of his chest vibrating against mine makes me feel safe, loved and me, I feel like me again, like I’m back! I take in his scent, Godrick, I’m so glad to see him I almost burst into tears. 

  
“Of course, I did, you prat, do you think I do this often when I greet people? Oh, hi Professor McGonagall, don’t mind me, I’ll get down if I might break any old bones.” I drone sarcastically, mimicking an imaginary conversation.

  
“Well, I don’t know, princess, you’re unpredictable at best.” He rumbles, kissing my earlobe and walking back to pick up my case, struggling to pick it up with me in his arms. “Are you ready for the rest of your life, Hermione Granger?” He queries and I know this is the best question anyone has ever asked me. Yes! Yes, I am, as long as I’m with you! I shout in my head, toning my reply down as I kiss him hungrily. Pulling back, I release his lips with a plop. 

  
“That’s an understatement, I’m more than ready and I have some things I want to talk about.”

  
“Ah.” He sighs, dark clouds crossing clear grey eyes as he looks worried.

  
“Hey, It’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s something I hope you’ll like.” I watch the tension drain from his face. “Now, take me home, I can’t wait to have a proper cup of tea and sleep in my own bed.” I grin.

  
“Yeah, err, about that—Well, everyone is waiting at the flat to see you. Molly’s made cakes and a nice spread for afternoon tea, but if you don’t feel well enough to do it now then I’ll send a Patronus and tell them to hotfoot it out of there.”

  
No. No, it’s been too long since I’ve seen them and I think I’d like to, even if just for a while to ease myself back to reality. Take each day as it comes, Hermione, I remind myself.  “It’s alright, but if I get too tired, I’ll tell you.”

  
He kisses me once more as best he can while carrying me and the luggage. His eyes are on mine for a few moments and I see a flicker of apprehension for barely a second. “I missed you too sweetheart, I want you to know that.” And the butterflies in my stomach begin a rumba. “Ready?” He asks, and with my nod he checks the guard isn’t looking and sidelong-apparates us out of there.

**Draco**

  
Holy shit, I’ve missed her so much that when she said she wanted to talk, I actually almost shit myself. I thought I was going to lose her when it took so long to find a way to be with her initially and I know reality had to hit eventually because my girl had to take stock of her life and I was terrified she’d decide she was better off alone and not with an ex-death eater and previous pureblood moron. 

  
While my sweetheart was away, I spent a lot of time with my mother, my aunt Andromeda and Teddy. As if today’s events weren’t stomach churning enough with Hermione’s release, the news had come the news my father had been released from Azkaban today too. My stomach was unsettled knowing he was back home, and my Aunt and the boy would be alone with him and my mother. They’ve been living at Malfoy Manor for a month in my wing and Teddy was the biggest terror the house had ever seen, racing the length of the property with the two women running after him while he yelled with excitement. I’ve spent time with Potter and Teddy, teaching him Quidditch on his training broom. The kids a sore loser and Harry and I laughed ourselves stupid when he threw a tantrum when he couldn’t catch a training snitch. Hogwarts won’t know whats hit it when he eventually arrives. He’s so much freer than I was as a child, and I hope my father can find it in himself to learn the true value of family with this little one who I’ve come to care for. He has a fresh chance, regardless of whether the boy came from two half-blood parents and his grandmother was once ostracised by the family. I haven’t seen father yet as his release was at the same time as Hermione’s, but it’s of no consequence today, my parents need time to reunite and my father to acclimatise to being back in his ancestral home for a while before others descend on them. 

  
Thankfully, everything the Dark Figure group had attempted to screw up had backfired in just the way Potter had predicted. Those who still retained the mental capacity to question how the Ministry had allowed this to happen to them were retried with a new jury, this number was extremely low, only my father and McNair in the end. My father was the only one lucky enough to receive special dispensation for his assistance in the investigation Potter undertook. Of course, Potter denied that anyone else attended my father’s cell apart from he and Granger, but his description of her and my father’s new relationship, on top of other information Lucius provided, gave him more of a chance of release than McNair.

When I attended the trials only a few days ago, one of the main surprises was that there were two newly trained lawyers present. Parvati Patil worked for the defence and Marcus Flint for the prosecution in my father’s trial. I gave Flint a contemptuous look when he glanced at me, wondering how he could work against those he’d sought part of during the war. It was like a snipe directed right at me.

  
Harry was the only one allowed to testify from the original trials as he had new evidence and it was an uncomfortable feeling, sitting there knowing his original evidence had been substantive in putting by my father in jail after the war and my father’s release rested on this man’s new evidence alone. Potter was interrogated for not following Auror policy, the defence attempting to make him appear unreliable, but the few Wizangamot members who hadn’t attended the original trials for reasons unto themselves loved the boy who lived and stood behind him, listening to everything Lucius and Harry said while talking amongst themselves.

  
My father gave me and Potter a tight smile as he heard Shacklebolt decree he was to be returned to Azkaban to await the outcome of the trial.

  
I sat through the next hearing at Harry’s side, hoping the McNair wouldn’t be so lucky as to be even considered for release. I’d seen the bloke execute so many on the Dark Lords orders, I wanted him to remain there for the rest of his days because I felt the bloke was unlikely to be rehabilitated, he could leave the court and continue his ways because in someone like him, that behaviour was almost ingrained in his psyche. It wasn’t that my father was more deserving, I knew that, but it was because at least he showed genuine remorse, at least enough for Potter to believe his actions weren’t totally self-seeking.

  
So, my father was replaced by McNair in the cage in the centre of the room and that’s when Harry came up with his trump card. 

  
I watched as the large man knocked his head on the door as he entered the room. I always took the piss out of Hagrid at school, called him an oaf and several other unsavoury names, especially after the episode with Buckbeak, but when he walked in Harry winked at me and I realised he had a masterplan to keep the old bastard in Azkaban. I was aghast when the roles between Patil and Flint reversed for McNair’s trial and I felt sorry for Patil when I realised she must have had to enter a cell with a mass murderer, all five foot nothing of her, to question him on his crimes and hear all the gory details. 

  
“Rubeus Hagrid, you are here at special request of the Wizangamot to testify against Walden McNair.” Parvati winked, at the half-giant, I could see it from where I was sitting, and I realised I adored this Gryffindor and guessed her stance in both trials was all Harry’s doing.

  
“I am, your grace, y-your magestest—Minister.” Hagrid stuttered as McNair sneered in his direction.

  
“Minister is fine, Hagrid. Please do continue with your questioning, Ms. Patil.”

  
She walked up and placed her hand on the wood before him, smiling up at the half-giant. “You know, I was always in awe of you at Hogwarts,” she began, turning and walking into the room, “for one, you were rumoured to be the man who brought Harry Potter to Hogwarts, and for that we’ll be forever grateful. After all, where would we be without Harry, the saviour of the Wizarding world and vanquisher of Voldemort?” She glanced at Potter and he grinned from ear to ear. I chuckled and shook my head. “You helped Dumbledore hide Harry following his parent’s death, fought for the Order of the Phoenix in two wars and you played a big part at the end of the second war, distressing as it must have been for you.” She walked out into the middle of the court. “To be perfectly honest, school rivalry aside, you are a pure example of a Gryffindor, so, why don’t you tell me why you’re here, sir.”

  
Hagrid mopped his eyes with a large spotted handkerchief at her speech and cleared his throat. “I’m ‘ere to tell you all ‘bout that man over there!” He pointed at McNair and a sob leeched from his throat. “I saw him kill people n’ creatures I knew in the first war, but he somehow worked his way into the Ministry after the war as a killer of magical creatures, an exa—exo—oh, I can’t say it!” His voice broke and he sobbed into his spotted hankie. He recovered himself, straightening his huge shoulders. “Then in the second war I watched him go after my kin, my brother and the Centaurs like they was sport and it was a game! It wasn’t a game, it wasn’t! They were just as deservin’ of life as you an’ me!” Hagrid cried.

  
Patil waited for him to compose himself. “Hagrid, I’m sorry, but you know the question will be asked today about Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets, so it’s better I ask you now before my esteemed colleague asks, so you can tell us in your own words.”

  
“Tom Riddle, well, he was a master manipulator from the very start, I tell you, a sly boy who took advantage of my likin’ of creatures. He had me expelled by reportin’ me, but Dumbledore always believed me, he gave me the position of Keeper of Keys an’ Grounds at Hogwarts and I was never questioned again until he turned up to kill Buckbeak!” Hagrid pointed stiffly at McNair.  
Patil walked forth and placed her hand over Hagrid’s on the wooden plinth.

  
I nudged Harry and whispered, “Am I allowed to speak?” 

Harry held his hands out and shrugged. 

  
“Minister, may I speak?” I said clearly and the room turned to stare at me. 

  
Flint shot me daggers and shouted, “Objection! Mr. Malfoy is not a witness in this trial!”

  
“This is most unusual, Mr. Malfoy, but I believe I’ll allow it on this occasion.” Kingsley announced, his eyes on Flint who sat back down immediately.

  
McNair began to shake the cage he stood within, his mouth almost foaming as he glowered at Flint and then at me.

  
I stood, no longer able to take the interrogation of a man both myself and my father had wronged, who now I saw as a kind and gentle giant who had always tried his best for all Hogwarts students. “I just wanted to say that I know more now than I did when I was a stupid child who bid my father to make a complaint about Hagrid because of an injury which wasn’t all that bad, nor really the professor’s fault. The D—” I cleared my throat realising my almost faux pas, “I heard Voldemort tell a story during his time in my home. He said he’d had many students expelled at Hogwarts for various misdemeanours against him, but his one regret was he was unable to have the half-giant removed from the grounds altogether. I heard him tell McNair he was to target Hagrid, kidnap him and make him watch the death of Harry Potter during the summer before the war, as penance.”

  
Patil looked to the Minister and he spoke out. “In which case, the expulsion of a pupil is a civil matter and no longer relevant in this case.” 

  
Flint deflated, knowing his interrogation was based on his examination of Hagrid on his involvement with the Chamber of Secrets and Patil walked towards the Wizangamot once more. “I thank Mr. Hagrid for his witness testimony of the crimes of Mr. McNair. No further questions.” She winked once more at Hagrid and walked away.

  
Hagrid looked back at me and I nodded. His eyes filled with tears and Flint approached, casting a quick look at me and knowing I knew a hell of a lot more about him that he wished for people to know. He may have got through the necessary checks to become a lawyer but one wrong word from me and he was toast and he knew it. There was something about karmic retribution that made me feel good.

  
“Mr. Hagrid, the Minister forbade me from talking about Aragog, but do tell me about the late-night visits from the students you received, I heard a very young Miss. Granger attended your accommodations regularly after dark.”

  
Hagrid slammed his hand down on the plinth before him in anger and before Patil had the chance to object he leaned down and looked Flint in the eyes. “Those children needed a sanctuary from the nasty things what were goin’ on in the castle, mainly by nasty Slytherin boys like yourself. They were polite an’ they ate my terrible rock cakes an’ drank tea from the vat I made an’ I was glad to watch o’ them!”

The Wizangamot talked amongst themselves and I heard a wizard say, “Flint really is scraping the cauldron with that one.” 

  
“That’s enough, Mr. Flint! Mr. Hagrid is not on trial here and if some tedious lies are all you base your case on then I will see to it that you will not grace my court again! Ms. Granger has never made such a complaint against her former professor and we have no others who have come forward to say anything of the sort about his character, therefore he should not have to endure this line of questioning!” Kingsley shouted, banging his gavel several times in irritation.   
I took a long deep breath inward, even I knew Hagrid was not that way, his kindness was legendary, even if I was too much of a fool at school to realise it.

Harry rolled his neck and blew out a breath.

  
“Thank you, Hagrid, the prosecution calls Harry Potter…”

  
At that moment I knew it was over for McNair, because I couldn’t live in a world as Hermione’s partner while he was free in the wizarding world and Harry was going to take him down with his evidence, I just knew it.

**Hermione**

  
When we arrive back at my flat, I’m overwhelmed by the love I feel. The smell of Molly’s cooking takes me back to the days I spent as a child at the Burrow and my eyes fill with tears because my own home feels like a real home.

  
“Hermione dear!” Molly rushes to embrace me, unceremoniously wrangling me out of Draco’s arms, “I’ve missed you.” She kisses my cheeks, stepping back as everyone else goes silent, like I’m made of porcelain and shouldn’t be touched or hugged so tightly. 

  
I purse my lips, worry surging into my throat. I gulp.

  
Harry stepped forward first, cupping my face and hugging me tightly. “I’ve missed you Hermione, I don’t think we’ve ever been apart for so long since the first time I met you. I would’ve come today, but I thought you needed to see Draco before me.”  
Tears come, but they’re happy tears and I reach back to grasp Draco’s hand as he hovers behind me. “I need a group hug,” I grin over Harry’s shoulder, “come on.” I gesticulate with my free hand. Draco draws up behind me and Ron in front of me, beside Harry and then everyone important in my life gets involved, leaving me surrounded by arms in a snug nest, a nest I’ve desperately needed over the past three months.

  
“I missed you all so much, you all were the reason I made it through.” The hug ends naturally, and I remove my arm from Harry’s neck and sink back into Draco’s arms, squeezing his hand’s as they circle my belly while laying my head back into his chest.

“Thank you for everything.” I whisper. I feel his hot breath on my neck and blush at the thoughts which flash through my mind, it’s been too long since we’ve connected, and I can’t wait to get him alone.

  
“There’s no need to thank me, princess, we’re all glad your home.” He kisses the lobe of my ear and my stomach clenches.

  
“Seriously, Hermione, not that I’m not glad to see you, but I’m not hugging you when you just want to get off with Draco!” George danced away, “Although, from previous experience, he is an excellent snog!” He hoots.

Ron looks weepy and he draws back with a tiny smile and Ginny burrows under her brother’s arm, circling my shoulders and gently knocking my head with hers. “You mean so much to me, I was lost without my best friend.” She kisses me on the cheek and leans back into the Weasley huddle behind her. Molly kisses her head and draws her daughter close.

  
Much as I can’t wait to take my man to bed, this hug has been the best I’ve ever experienced in my life and I realise as humans we’re all desperately grasping for something, for love, affection, to be accepted, to be wanted, needed and to be part of a family. That’s what I have, a family made up of people I’ve chosen, who I know will support me through anything and who’ll always be there for me.

**Draco**

  
“I thought they’d never leave.” I stare at the still steaming tea pots on the dining table I took her on the last time we were here in her flat. I want her, but I know I need to wait for her to make the first move, she’s exhausted and I know I shouldn’t push things right now. I would be happy if we needed to begin all over again, as long as she was here with me.

  
She pulls off her shoes and sinks back into the sofa with a sigh. "You know, I thought I'd feel weird coming home, what with everyone being here and also with me not being the hostess for once but being here with Molly and the others made it feel like home." She stretches with her hands clasped together and I can't help but notice her breasts squeeze together in the most delightful way.  Naturally she notices my heated look, I know she does. 

"What?" She murmurs, her gaze burning into mine.

I'm not a man who blushes, or I didn't think I was until she looks up and my face is red hot, she saw me looking and I'd promised myself I wouldn't push it and I suddenly don't know how to answer her question without making a fool of myself. Everything we went through seems so far away and I don't know what to do. "I, oh, I don't know, I've just been waiting all day for us to be together, err, but I don't mean like that." I feel like a total idiot. For the past three months I've wanked myself stupid over her, remembering the few intense times we were together and replaying them over and over in my mind, down to every last detail. I'm not sure she realises how much I missed her, so now's the time to tell her. She looks confused and bites her lip. Fuck it, Hermione, way to give a bloke a hard-on! She must know by now that's my bloody Achilles heel as far as she's concerned. Her eyelashes flicker, and she looks up at me, cinnamon hued irises glinting in the dipping dusk of the low evening skyline. 

"Oh.” She looks flustered, “I'm sorry, I didn't realise things had changed, w-we, um, we can just be friends, I-I’d like that."

I see the acute pain in her eyes and rush to sit beside her, taking her hands in mine. "Never! I'm sorry if I was an idiot and made it sound that way." I lift her hands, holding them together and kiss her knuckles, pecking each one gently. I look up, hoping her initial fears have dissipated. "I've never wanted anyone to return to me like I've wanted you. It's just been so long, and I worried you'd change your mind about me, you know, once you went through therapy. I just thought they'd tell you how fucked up we are as a couple. I couldn’t be sure we were just going to pick up just where we left off." I drop my eyes. It's like she gets the picture and I don't, like she's now an expert on working out how a man can try but not meet her standards now she's spoken to a professional about it. It's my anxiety speaking, I know it, but I can't help thinking she's more efficient at working out her own mind than she ever was before, because she's had help.

She releases her hands from mine and my heart sinks, but she moves onto her knees and almost throws herself into my lap. 

"Draco, I don't think I've ever heard anything so stupid in my life." She settles her head against my neck, winding her fingers into my hair. "My therapist was there to help me think about what had been happening in my life, and it mainly focused on what happened before we met." She stands, and sinking into my lap, she looks up at me. Reaching to clasp my chin, she forces me to look down at her, she's gentle but I know Hermione Granger means business. "You know I told them everything about us, everything Draco." She thumbs my lower lip and I can’t help but dart out my tongue and run it over her searching tip. I watch as her pupils dilate and my stomach jolts in the most glorious way. She continues breathily, "I told them you were part of my life and there would be no compromise, my love. I told them we were together and in it for the long haul."  Her chest raises on a deep ingoing breath and I reach to brush my fingers across her lips, trying not to caress them as desperately as I want to. Her mouth feels as soft and smooth as I remembered from the snog we had before we headed back to her flat. 

"I don't think I've ever missed anyone like I missed you while you were away, princess. I was lost, Merlin, so lost until I saw you today and we apparated back here. Then it was like a dream watching you walk around your flat, like it was filled with emptiness until you came back to me. Hermione, I can't be without you again, I-I can't, I just can't do it." I know I'm almost begging like the biggest prick in the universe, but she needs to make sure she knows how much I need her and how hard it'll be if she decides she wants to move on alone. She tells me she and I are together, but I've waited three months for her, and it felt like I might just die. I realise I'm shaking and she's standing before me. 

"Draco? Draco, can you hear me?"

I snap back to reality and place the heel of my hand on my forehead. "I'm sorry." I feel the burn of tears at the back of my throat. "I missed-I thought-I'd-" I feel the fear of breaking down cause my diaphragm to tense so tightly a sob launches up, unbidden, from my throat, caused by the fear of the unknown. I clutch her face and draw her to me, kissing every inch of skin I can find. Somehow, I break through my panic and racing heart to tell her more. "I thought I'd lost you, I thought you wouldn't believe I'd do anything for you when you came back, I thought—" I hiccup, "I thought you'd remember who I was before, what I was, what did and then decide I wasn't worth the trouble. I'm sorry, you don't need this, I should leave, I'll go home." I stand and she does too.

"No, you will not! Don't you think I felt the same? Don't you think being away from you was hard for me too?" She places her hands on my chest and drops a kiss over my heart, "Draco, I thought of you every day I was in that place, I needed you and you gave yourself to me before, you made yourself vulnerable, you let me go so I could find myself. I don't know of many men who could do that. Do you think I'd ever forget it?" 

"But this is real life and I've had too much time to think about it! You deserve better! You deserve someone who can give you everything, not an ex-Death Eater!" I walk away and stare into the Depths of London through the huge glass windows. I glance up and watch her reflection behind me.

"Draco, we've been through this. I want you and I need you! You've supported me, you've done everything to prove yourself, why in Merlin’s beard would I want anyone else?" She strides forth and clasps my waist, laying her head between my shoulder blades.

"Do you love me?" I ask, desperate for her to tell me.

"I think I've loved you for longer than I've ever admitted. Yes, I love you, I can’t ever think of being apart from you."

I place my head on the glass as her hands wander below the hem of my shirt, the glass fogs with my breath as she moves to undo my belt. "I want you, but I want you to be sure. Too much time has passed, too many things have happened, and I know I'll always love you, Hermione." She's kissing every inch of my back and then she's on her knees unzipping my trousers, turning me to her so she can run her hands over my thighs.

“Then I’ll prove it to you, right here, right now.” 

“Oh, fuck, Hermione.” I fist her hair as she takes me in her mouth.

**Hermione**

I always expected I would be the insecure one upon my return. Never did I think he wouldn’t realise things would be as they are, and I’d hoped to drop back into our relationship where we left off.   
His groan of pleasure was the first step in making him know I was here just for him. Sliding my lips along his length shouldn't have given me time to think of anything else but my mind was buzzing with questions, how could he doubt me? How in the world could my reaction to him earlier ever have made him feel I didn't want him? Ah. I realised I never spoke to him in depth about the plan I had for us to travel, and he was still nervous about 'the talk'. How could I be so blind? I removed my mouth from him and replaced it with my hand, stroking his silken cock, remembering every inch of him. "Don't worry baby, I want you so badly, all I ever wanted was for us to be together." His eyes flutter open and I know he's there, only just, not totally lost in lust. I pump him slowly. "I wanted to ask you to see the world with me, to be mine, to stay with me forever." I return my lips to suckle the tip of his dick and he moans, his thighs trembling under my hands. 

"Any fucking place, anytime, anywhere!" He calls out, his hand tightening on my hair.

"Hmm." I pause, licking his tip. He looks down at me with lidded eyes and his hands push me away smoothly. 

"G-Hermione," he begins, chuckling, "I love your bedside manner, you take me to the precipice and then I can almost hear the cogs in that giant brain of yours working. It's just as much of a turn on as you sucking me off, but if you want to talk, then let's talk. Just be aware that if I stop now, then I'm licking your pussy while you speak." His eyebrow raises and I feel the urge to squeeze my thighs together. 

"Alright." I bite my lip and he almost growls, lifting me by the hips and pressing me against the wall. My damp knickers are gone in seconds and I'm not sure I can speak. "I—I." He stops at an agonisingly pleasurable moment and I clench my fists to even attempt to speak. "Morocco!" I choke back a sob of pleasure as the tip of his tongue dips down to tickle my clit. "That's where I want to start afresh, uh, oh fuck, Draco! That feels so good, I want us to drink mint, ah, tea, because it reminds me of your breath." 

"Mmm, what else? What else do you want?" He sits back on his haunches, "Apart from to come all over my face?" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand with a salacious grin.

"I want to start there." I'm breathing heavily but I've always found the talk between us is hornier than the act. I suck in a whistling breath, my head hitting the wall as he runs his hand up my thigh, placing his thumb strategically over my nubbin. 

"Yeah?" He breathes, "I want to be with you anywhere you choose." He's still rubbing, and stars are dancing behind my eyes. "If there's one thing I know, is life happens in nanoseconds and my father’s hair still stays the same." His face crumples into laughter as I shut my thighs on his hand in faux annoyance.

“Miss Granger, I believe you were the one who said my father’s hair was sexy." He loses his mind and throws his head back in amusement. I reach forth and grasp a chunk of his hair and pull his head until he looks into my eyes. 

"I think you'll find I said I liked his hair because it was like yours, now, I suggest you put yourself to good use, unless you think your father’s hair could do a better job!" I bite my lips together as he grumbles in response and begins shaking with laughter, slapping his hands on his knees in amusement. I adore how free he seems, he's nothing like the boy I once knew who seemed so stressed, so desperate to keep himself under control, so nasty because of it. He moves his thumb back to my pussy, placing his thumb on my clit but not moving it. Instead he gives me a grin. 

"You know you're a tease Draco Malfoy." I inform him as he uses his free hand to rub his forehead with mirth. 

He stops and lowers his head, like I’ve reminded him of something. "You can remind me how bittersweet it's been between us, how much it's hurt at times, but I'm here now for you and I'm yours, under the stars I'm named after and with the magic we have between us. You're mine and I'm yours, Hermione." He snakes his arms around my waist and rests his forehead on my belly.

I know tonight is all about reconnecting and as I feel his fingers slide into mine and clutch them tightly. We rise and he draws me over to the windows while he looks over the Thames. We’re both naked in the dark, watching the aged river below, but then I find myself looking up at the stars, trying to seek out his constellation in the sky. We’re in two worlds like we always have been. There's no rush, the night is ours and I feel like it will never end. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're beginning to come towards the end of this story and I've really enjoyed writing it. Thank you for following. I think we may have one or perhaps two chapters to tie everything up.  
> Love and appreciation to @badwolfjedi for her excellent beta skills <3

**Draco**

It seems like days have passed filled with talking, lovemaking and eating. Hermione hadn’t had the chance to cook for some time and bloody hell did she make up for it. On her first morning home I woke to an empty bed and the smell of coffee and pancakes wafting through the apartment.

I frowned, even if my stomach growled, as I wanted to savour her some more before we started a new day. I suppose the main reason for that was because I didn’t know what today would bring, or who might arrive and break the miraculous bubble we found ourselves in.

That wasn’t to say things had been easy that first night. We feel asleep in each-other’s arms sated and exhausted after a whole evening spent pleasuring each other in various ways, but she woke at three am and began pacing the room in the dark. I watched her for a while before switching on the bedside lamp and pulling the covers aside for her to return. She was restless and she told me she couldn’t settle, so I made us cocoa and returned with the steaming cups slipping in beside her and pulling the coverlet around her trembling shoulders. After a while she settled in my arms and I hugged her tightly until I was certain she’d dropped off again. She didn’t need to tell me that she was struggling because I just knew intuitively that her arrival at home wasn’t as smooth sailing as it first appeared. She was overwhelmed, you know, I already knew this as I often felt that way myself. The wee small hours are always the worst for me too, so I resign myself to the fact we both may be restless sleepers for some time to come, at least.

Walking into the lounge, I find Hermione on the muggle telephone. By the way she’s taking I think she must be calling Mrs. Figg as she seems to be relaying everything that’s happened since she last saw her. I’m incredibly surprised to hear my mother’s name come from her mouth.

“Of course, we’ll visit, Narcissa…yes, yes, it has been far too long…alright, I’ll tell him. We’ll see you soon.” She replaces the ivory handset in its cradle.

“Were you speaking to my mother on that contraption?” I ask, wide eyed at the implication somehow a muggle telephone has been installed at the Manor.

“I know, can you believe it? Andromeda had one installed when she moved in, apparently, she needs it so Teddy’s magical pre-school can contact her in an emergency, they have no floo as it’s dangerous for the children.” She chuckles and shakes her head, “It appears your mother has taken to it like a duck to water and your aunt had my number, so she called here wanting to talk to me.”

“Unbelievable.” I shudder at the implications of my mother being let loose on muggledom via the telephone. Winding my arms around Hermione’s waist I plant several kisses along her tantalising neck and along the bare shoulder where the collar of her dressing gown has slipped down. “And I hear you were making arrangements when you know you already have a full diary today?”

“Draco,” she purrs as I flick my tongue over the lobe of her ear, “you are a filthy little liar who just wants to keep me in bed all day.”

I sigh melodramatically, “Alright, you’ve got me there, but I did hope we’d have a bit more time together before we had to get back to real life.”

“We will, but there are a few things I need to do first. You mother’s invited us to lunch with your father and Aunt Andromeda, Teddy’s at pre-school until three.”

“Yeah, the little menace, I think he’s running his grandmother ragged.”

“Anyway, I have a bone to pick with you, Draco Malfoy, why am I only finding out about Harry and Cassandra dating from your mother? Neither of you mentioned it yesterday and you said you’d told me everything that had been happening in my absence. The one juicy piece of gossip that I really would have liked to know and you both keep it from me.” She shoots me look of annoyance as she crosses her arms.

I scratch my head. Truthfully, I don’t care much about who other blokes are shagging but make a mental note to remember to tell her these titbits in future. “What can I say, princess, in all the excitement I forgot.”

“And Harry probably doesn’t want me to know, even though I think its wonderful. When I saw him, he looked really good, better than he had in a long time, no longer like an eternal bachelor but like he’d really made an effort with his clothes and hair. Come to think of it, no-one really told me anything.” She pouts.

I suck in a deep breath. “Well, err, it’s like this, Ginny’s been seeing Blaise.” Shit, this could be bad and she’d likely to react like everyone else did when they first found out.

“What! Are you serious? Please tell me you’re joking Draco.” She looks panicked.

“No. I’m deadly serious. Turns out Blaise was imperioused as well as under the unbreakable vow, they had him dancing like a marionette in front of everyone in the wizarding world. I went to see him and he’s better now, we’re on speaking terms now and he’s a good bloke.”

I watch discontent cloud her face and I just know that brain of hers is racing ninety to the dozen. She’s muttering to herself, something about one day at a time.

“Hey,” I step forward and tip up her chin, “accept the things you cannot change, you know, that thing you told me.”

She stares into my eyes for a few moments and nods, calming down.

“Look, we can’t stop her from seeing who she wants to see, she’s a grown woman and he’s really not a bad bloke. Anyway, if any witch can keep him in line, don’t you think it’s her?” I soothe her by running my thumb over her cheek. I feel her warm fingers on my forearm as she traces my tattoos absently.

“I know, you’re right. Honestly, it was just unexpected. You know, they told me another thing at rehab, the old Polish saying, not my circus, not my monkeys.”

I chuckle at the strange saying. “And that means?”

“It means, I’m not the one who can control this situation, so why worry about it.”

“Seems sensible, I’ll add that to my never-ending list of muggle sayings. It sounds like something Chris might say.”

“Oh no, I forgot to ask about Chris and Mrs. Figg. How are they?”

“They’re doing really well, sweetheart, but I think I’ll let my mother fill you in on that surprise over lunch.”

She eyes me pensively but says no more, she knows I’m not going to spill anymore secrets until later. Well, maybe not all the secrets.

“We’d better eat these blueberry pancakes and drink our coffee before it gets cold.”

I can’t contain myself. “Just one more thing, it’s probably not my place to say, so act surprised when they tell you, but Angelina and George are getting married.”

She squeals so loudly I think my eardrums might burst.

**Hermione**

I understand why everyone wanted to keep their good news until I’ve had a chance to settle in, but holy crap, there’s a ton of it. Not only do we have Ron and Tracey’s wedding in less than a month, but we have George and Angelina’s at Christmas. Also, Lucius is home, albeit under probation for now, but I’m so happy I think I might burst if I’m given any more good news and just hearing about it has helped me get through my first real day out of rehab.

At twelve-thirty we apparate to Malfoy Manor and find Harry on duty at the floo. I walk up to him and poke him in the chest. “You and I are going to have a long conversation later about a certain Mrs. Black.” The Aurors remain on duty at the Manor because Lucius is home and I’m adamant I’m going to take this up with Kingsley. He may be under house arrest, but his being there hinders the lives of Narcissa, along with Andromeda and Teddy now, so I’m sure I can convince them to put some wards in place to prevent him leaving, rather than being watched over at all hours while on probation.

Harry shouldn’t talk while on duty, but he gives me a lopsided grin. “Yeah, um, about that—”

“Later.” I say sternly but kiss his cheek affectionately as Narcissa arrives to greet us.

“Darling Hermione, we’re so glad to have you back. Come, come, there’s someone here who’d like to see you.” She hugs me and draws me to the parlour.

Lucius rises unsteadily from his seat by the fire. He’s almost as gaunt as he was when I last saw him, but he stands tall with the use of a walking stick. He’s freshly shaven and his hair is clean and almost the same as it ever was. In his luxurious robes one might think he’d just had a bought of illness and not a long stint in the most notorious wizarding jail in the world.

“Hermione, how good to see you.” He holds his hand out to shake mine, but I’m so glad to see him home with his family, I rush to him and hug him. He seems a little uncertain at the action but encloses one arm around me, patting my shoulder.

I find a tear running down my cheek and brush it away. I don’t think it goes unnoticed by the older man, but he doesn’t mention it. “Lucius, I’m so glad you’re home with your family. I just wish it could’ve been sooner.

He clears his throat, “Well, there was the matter of Ministry red tape and I had to await trial after the trials of those responsible for the debacle. I have Mr. Potter to thank for relaying our conversations to the Wizangamot. I am home now, and that is the main thing.”

I hear a cough behind me, and I’m startled to see Mrs. Figg and Chris seated on a lush sofa across the room. To say seeing them in the same room as Lucius Malfoy is unnerving is an understatement, the last time that many tattoos were seen in Malfoy Manor was during the war. In a second I’ve rushed to take them both in my arms. “It’s been so long, how are you both?” I ask.

Chris has turned beet red but he still replies cheekily, “Still waiting for your hand in marriage darlin’ cause it seems this git hasn’t proposed yet.” He takes my ring hand in his and tuts, shaking his head mischievously at Draco.

“Christ, Figg, how can you so openly flirt in front of your mother?” Draco replies.

“Well, dear, I think you’ll find your level of flirtation with Hermione was through the roof of this Manor when you were both last here.” Narcissa chuckles.

I chance a glance at Lucius. I know he said in Azkaban he was okay with us as a couple, but I wonder if his feelings have changed in the cold light of day. All I see is barely withheld mirth.

“Mother, you’re supposed to be on my side!” Draco whines.

“I’m always on your side darling. Now, don’t deplore so, it’s unbecoming of a grown man.” Narcissa chides.

By this point Chris is almost in hysterics.

“Let’s all calm down shall we, there is much to discuss with Hermione and I’m sure she’d like to know why we’re all here together.” She urges everyone to sit for lunch.

Tea is provided by Mippy, along with a fabulous spread of sandwiches, cakes and savoury pastries. The elf looks gingerly at Lucius first, then touches my arm shyly.

“Mippy is pleased that the new mistress has returned, Mippy’s made a lunch she thinks lady muggleborn witches would like from Mistress Narcissa’s new muggle cookbooks. Master Lucius said I’s was to do as I felt fit when I’s was asking permission, he said I’s must do what I thinks makes Miss Granger happy, that I must do as I feel fit in the Manor from now on as I’s in charge of the catering.” She moves closer and I lean down to hear her whisper, “Mistress Narcissa made the sausage rolls herself, I’s taking away the burned ones though, I think Master Lucius smelled the burning and asked Mippy to do the cooking, Mippy felt that is for the best too.”

I bite my lips to contain my laughter, especially as I was the one to encourage Narcissa to learn to cook. “That’s wonderful Mippy, and I believe you have a good reason to be proud, the house looks beautiful and the food smells scrumptious.” I reply, glancing up at Lucius who looks flushed but still gives off an air of nonchalance, then to Narcissa, who sips her tea as she glances over at her small plate of pastries proudly.

Chris is seated next to Draco, who’s sitting opposite me and Mrs Figg giggles into her napkin from her seat on my left-hand side. I know she’s overheard the secret conversation.

Narcissa clears her voice. “This is such a wonderful day, having both my boy, his friends and his intended back at home for a family luncheon.”

“I-I, well, we haven’t rightly discussed anything about intentions, err, we’re still just dating I suppose.” I stutter.

“No matter, darling. Draco may bide his time but as his mother I know he’s absolutely smitten with you.” She smiles and I look at Draco who nearly falls off his chair when Chris elbows him in the side with a guffaw. This is probably the most uncouth behaviour this room has ever seen, apart from when Voldemort resided here.

Mrs Figg is the first to speak out. “Christian Figg, I shouldn’t need to tell you at your time of life how to behave at a dinner table.” She’s says it so kindly he looks forlorn and I know Chris must hate to disappoint his lovely, sweet spoken mother.

Draco is snickering and both his mother and I both say at the same time, “Draco!” turning to one another and laughing as we did.

“Oh, you’ll do well in this family Hermione.” Narcissa informs me.

Lucius is yet to say anything, but I’d imagine this isn’t the type of luncheon he’s used to. He takes a few items from the plates and looks at everyone else. “Do dig in, you realise I haven’t been fed properly for almost two years and I’m afraid manners are about to go out the window.” He bites into one of Narcissa’s sausage rolls and his eyes roll back. “These are the best pastries I’ve ever tasted, do give my compliments to the chef, Mippy.”

Mippy titters and nods back with conviction, both knowing they’ve made Narcissa very happy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two had been in cahoots over his reaction to the cooking. Never did I think that I’d be eating at Malfoy manor as a part of the family and witnessing such merriment. After my very first visit here, I thought it a cold and desolate place, filled with fear and selfish egotism, but now I see why Narcissa was so desperately alone when she lost her husband and her son, because often things are so different behind closed doors you cannot possibly have any idea how people truly behave in their own home. It seems this little family was happy once, before Lucius made the wrong decisions for them all. I think he knows that and is happy to be back in the bosom of his family once more, even if it means an uncouth lunch with people he may never have looked twice at once. I’m proud of him for allowing a Squibb and her son into the house, let alone to eat at the same table, because it shows he really has tried to change.

Lifting a scone to my mouth, I hear the door open, followed by a loud and angry meow and I nearly scream as Crookshank’s places his claws into my lower leg. I knock my tea over and cause a mess, standing up as the naughty beast jumps into my arms, sticking his claws into me as though he was climbing a mountain with an ice pick. I know when I asked about him, Draco told me my cat remained at the Manor and has been causing all sorts of trouble with Teddy as he’s chased through the galleries and garden but with the strange situation, I forgot about the pet I adore.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Teddy was being a terror at pre-school today, I was speaking with them on the telephone.” Andromeda rushes forth to take a seat. “Hermione, I’m so sorry, Crooks has taken to sleeping on Teddy’s bed and I accidentally let him out when I left to come to lunch. It seems he missed you though?”

I wince in pain but forgive my elderly boy who seems to have had a new lease of life as he snuggles into my chin, purring loudly. Draco moves around the table to save me from my feline attacker, carefully pulling his needle like claws from my side and scratching his ears as he drops the culprit to the ground. I sink down on my haunches, whispering to my oldest friend as he rubs around my legs. Regardless of his ill timing, I’m so glad to see him again and he is obviously annoyed that I left him.

“I know this luncheon has been somewhat bizarre but please, can we have the animal removed from the table. Mippy!” Lucius calls.

“Yes, Mippy is here, Master.”

“Mippy, do give this creature some salmon over near the window, then at least he might leave Hermione to eat her lunch in peace and will refrain from leaving cat hairs upon the petit fours. He does, after all, keep the rat population down in the dungeons, or so I’ve heard.”

Mippy vanishes the mess I’ve made on the table and disappears with a pop, returning seconds later with a bowl of expensive looking salmon for Crookshanks.

I laugh nervously, “You’ll never get rid of him if you treat him like royalty, he’s the most entitled cat I’ve ever known.”

“Then he is in the right place here.” Lucius retorts.

I’m not sure what to think as the afternoon descends into a chaos worthy of the Weasley household, but I never expected my cat to be allowed to stay in the dining area while we ate, or that the elderly cat was still killing rats, he was such a pampered and lazy bugger usually. Exasperated as he was, Lucius shows his kinder side.

“Have I missed anything?” Andromeda helps herself to some food and sits back in the chair. “Oh, my, these sausage rolls are divine.” I see her calculated glance at Lucius and I now know they’re all in on it.

“No, Andy darling, I was just about to tell Hermione about the Potter Charity Foundation.” Narcissa pipes up.

My ears prick up when the foundation is mentioned, and I’m intrigued. “What exactly is the Potter Charity Foundation?” I glance at Draco as he returns to his seat and note that Chris calls him a suck-up lowly and Draco tells him to fuck off.

“Mrs Figg and I have started a foundation for families who have suffered abuse. Our first home is Harry’s old house at Privet Drive. We have families living there right now. One lady has left the Wizarding world with her children to live a muggle life after experiencing domestic violence and there is a young woman who suffered an abusive childhood in muggle Bournemouth who is also staying there. We hope to fill more houses with the needy as we buy up more properties in the area. Mrs Figg runs the house and the Ministry provide some funding. We provide some further funding, along with help from the Zabini’s and other pureblood families who have the resources. Harry himself, the Weasley family and even Christian provides some funds and support from his business in Diagon Alley.”

“Wow, that’s just—wow.” I’m at a loss for words. “Chris! You have a shop in Diagon Alley?”

“Yes, I-I.” His face is crimson. “Draco spoke with me after, um, well, after you went away for a while, err, for your health and he asked if I wanted to go into rehab, he always promised it you see, back when we first met and he paid for it and everything. I went for six weeks and when I came out, he set me up with a smart tattoo shop. He gave me a new life and, mate—” Chris turns to Draco who is looking intently at the table, embarrassed that his good deed has been mentioned, “I will always be grateful for your help.”

All eyes were on the two and I felt tear leak from my eyes as Draco looked up and clapped his friend on the back, shaking his hand as manfully as possible.

“My shop is the place to come to for a tattoo and somehow muggle tattoos are all the rage at the moment, although I employ a witch to do magical tattoos too, her names Rose Shacklebolt, she’s a niece of the Minister’s and she’s rather lovely. I have pictures of the one’s I did for Lord Drax and I’ve told everyone I won’t do your face again, Hermione, but I get asked all the time, people just love you enough to want you tattooed on their bodies.” Chris continued; his cheeks rosy as he chuckles a little at Draco.

From the corner of my eye, I see Lucius shift slightly in his chair, but I could see he was just as enamoured with Chris’ story as the rest. I wonder if he knows about the tattoos.

“Anyway,” Chris clears his throat of emotion, “It’s kept me busy and that’s the advice I give to anyone in the same position, do something you love, don’t waste your life or your sobriety will falter.” He glances up to me with a tight grin.

At that point I realise Chris hasn’t tried to out me as a recovering alcoholic, but he understands my situation. Draco has no doubt spoken to him about it while I was away, and I can’t blame him. As close as Draco got to Harry and Ron, I don’t think he’d go to them for support. Chris is a good man and I’m glad he’s Draco’s best friend and perhaps someone I can go to too if I need it.

**Draco**

“Narcissa and I do the work for the foundation, you know accounts and such. I was always good at Arithmancy and she of course is great at public relations. We work well together, and it gives me purpose when Teddy is at school. It helps me forget. I never expected to feel at home here, I admit that wholeheartedly, never thought I’d be accepted by my family again, but my sister and Lucius have been so kind to Teddy and I.” Andromeda’s face flashes with sorrow and I’m surprised to see my father place his hand atop hers.

“I would like to help. I’m not sure what you might need an old fool for, but if there is anything I can do, then you will let me know.” Lucius utters, taking Narcissa’s hand with his other free one and passing his wife a look of adoration.

“Actually father, there is something I hoped to talk to you about. You taught me magic as a child and an idea I wanted to speak with Granger about, was early control of childish magic in muggle and wizarding society. You see, everyone else has a purpose and I feel like I have a need to contribute, much like you, but I wasn’t sure how until we had Teddy living here and his uncontrolled magic almost decimated the roof of the Manor one day when he threw a tantrum. Muggle children’s parents aren’t aware of what is happening to their children either and it causes stress to their families, as well as some magical families who are not able to spend much time teaching because they have jobs. Not everyone is rich, and we need a plan to help Kingsley build a society which is no longer segregated for absurd reasons.”

“That sounds like a fine idea, my boy, but I don’t see how I can help.” Lucius placed his elbows onto the table and templed his hands, resting his chin upon them thoughtfully and indicating I should continue.

“Teddy is currently in a magical pre-school and Aunt Andromeda has been there almost everyday because he has magical outbursts. Now, this is at a magical private school who oddly don’t teach magic, they just educate magical children in the basics of making mud pies and shoving toys into holes. Imagine what it’s like at a muggle pre-school with three-year old magical children and muggles who have no clue whats happening? Terrifying for someone who’d never experienced magic I would say.”

“Alright, so what are you saying, Draco?” Hermione pipes up and breaks the minutes of silence which follow.

“I’m saying, princess, we need to create educational establishments for that age group. In fact, for ages from three when uncontrolled magic manifests, until they’re due to leave for Hogwarts.”

“Draco, teaching one boy, someone who is my only son, is all well and good, but how do I help teach a class or whole school filled with children?” My father looks tired and I know the discussion is probably a bit much for both he and Hermione today. He’s recovering and so is she, but I want to plant the seed in their minds. Whether they realise it or not, they’re very similar in the way they process things and I know just the mention of it could be the making of them both.

Hermione has read my mind, like she almost always does.

“You begin with Teddy.” She says sagely.

Andromeda seems to understand what I was getting at and when Hermione speaks out, she grins. “That is a perfect idea. He’s of the right age, he’s uncontrolled, however much I try to help him, and I think he needs a father figure in his life, Lucius.”

Lucius drops his head into his hands. “I’m very tired. Cissy, I’ll retire to think further about this idea, although I think you’re expecting rather a lot from a wizard who has no more respect from the wizarding world than he deserves, Draco.” He rises and makes his way towards the door, looking older than I’ve ever seen him as he leans on his cane.

“All I ask is that you think about it. You have the opportunity to become involved or just act as an advisor, father.” I say, standing up and realising everyone is watching us.

Because I haven’t seen him since his return home, and I follow him through the doors of the parlour. Ignoring the fact we’re being watched by Harry, I place a hand on my father’s shoulder. “There is always a reason to carry on. You always taught me that we were leaders in the wizarding world, you said where we led people would follow. Last time led to disaster, but now there’s a chance of redemption for both of us and we could begin with the most impressionable, we can rethink the doctrine from the ground up and make sure the future of my children is safe.”

He looks up sharply at that and his eyes look like they’re trying to read me. “I’ll think on it, but in the mean-time I’ll remind you not to lose all you have built from the ashes of our house. Hermione is the perfect witch for you and your friend Christopher is unusual, but he is real, Draco. They don’t concern themselves with the order of this world, because they haven’t been raised within it. They have the perspective to advise what changes should be made, not an ex- Death Eater who already made every wrong choice possible.”

“That’s not true.” A voice echoed through the hallway and I realised it was Harry. He stood still as a sentry, only his mouth was moving. “Excuse me for interrupting your father, son chat, but I disagree wholeheartedly. People need to learn from those who lived through history and those children would benefit from your experience, Lucius. There’s a muggle saying, those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. I can’t imagine you as a pre-school teacher and I don’t believe Draco is asking you to do that. I do think you have the ability to pass on knowledge, to help plan classes for children and be involved on a school board, after all you have experience of that. Putting it mildly, if a school truly had Lucius Malfoy on side they could never want for a fiercer protector. Of course, that’s just my opinion and I’ll shut up now.”

I feel like smirking at Potter’s almost Slytherin outburst, but I notice my father stand a little straighter, his cane is almost unused, just balanced under his hand like it always was. He looked confident.

“Draco have your aunt send Teddy to me in my study after breakfast tomorrow morning. Inform her that she will not send my nephew back to that atrocious school and that I will teach him for now. Above all, inform her I will be kind, that I won’t be as I was with you as a boy and she is welcome to attend the sessions if she so wishes, although I wonder if her attendance may be detrimental if the boy has any chance of becoming an independent being.”

I thought I saw my father gulp and bit my lips together, choking back emotion.

“Draco, I apologise for being hard on you as a boy, it was the way I was taught. This time we shall get it right and we shall all learn in the process for your project and for our own good.” He places a hand on my shoulder, and I bow my head, afraid to look up and see any sentiment as I think I might cry at it. “You have always been the most important person in my life, along with your mother. I may have grandchildren one day and I don’t want them to be afraid of me like you were of my own father or even me. Life is changing for us all and I no longer want to be part of the old world and its ways.” He walks to his study with purpose rather than his rooms as I know he intended. He speaks as he does. “But, sweet Salazar, please make sure the boy doesn’t bring that beast of a cat with him, I may be tempted to feed it more salmon and that won’t do, it won’t do at all.” He huffs.

I snicker as the door closes to my father’s study and walk to Harry as he stands at the floo. “What time do you get off?” I ask.

“Why, Draco, anyone would think you’re propositioning me.” He smirks annoyingly.

“No, actually, I want you to come to Hermione’s so I can see her rip you a new one.” I snipe back.

“Yeah, it’s a long time coming. I’m taking Cassandra on a date tonight, so we could pop in around seven before the restaurant. Chris and Mrs. Figg are babysitting before you ask, she wouldn’t leave the children with just anyone after what happened, and neither would I.”

“Don’t blame her.” I feel awkward but I have to mention what he’s just done with my father. “But don’t think Hermione will go easy on you just because Cassandra’s there.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He retorts.

I shake with laughter but keep my lips pursed. “Thanks for what you did, Potter, it might just have changed everything.”

“We’ll see how you father gets on with Teddy, but if it works then I want him to see Lily and Peter next, those two need to know how the wizarding world works in a good way. I know they adore you, so hopefully they’ll take to your father too.”

“I’ll see if Hermione and I can visit tomorrow, I know they’ve been asking for her and I couldn’t find a way to tell them why she wasn’t there when I last visited them.”

Still standing straight as a die, Harry nodded. “You did the right thing with Hermione. I know she wouldn’t have listened to me because I’m too easy going, she knew she’d never lose me and would’ve carried on just like she was until she ended up in a worse state.”

“Harry, I think she knew it would be the same with me, it was her decision to make sure the rest of her life wasn’t tarnished by her addiction, same with Chris, I just gave them both the push they needed. I’m not some god who can make people do as I want.”

“Yeah, you’re not the spoiled, Slytherin Prince anymore, and for that I’ll always be grateful.” He replied with a broad grin.

I turn and walk back to the parlour, hearing raucous chatter.

“Potter,” I stand at the door, “Thank you for everything you’ve done too.”

“It’s a pleasure, Malfoy, just don’t fuck things up.” I heard as I headed back inside.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Sorry for the delay on this fic, Uni has invaded my life and what with Christmas and everything I got behind. I hope to have this fic completed in the next chapter and I'm working on it this week.  
> I hope you enjoy this one, I'm tying up loose ends and letting you know more about how the characters are getting on in the aftermath. This chapter contains Dramione smut and also details of Lucius and Narcissa's sex life (or lack thereof) It's not squicky (I don't think) but without spoiling it for you, Draco's reactions are rather entertaining.  
> I'm kind of planning a short follow up story with the working title, The Malfoy Primary School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which tells of the trials and tribulations of setting up a magical school for young children. Let me know what you think, would it be something you'd like to read?

 

 

**Draco**

 

It’s like colour has bled back into my world in these past months I've had Hermione home with me. Free from fear of attack or reprisals from the Dark Figure movement, we fell into easy days in the height of summer, spending time between muggle London and the Manor, preparing for our round the world trip, and catching up with friends.

It’s a few days before we’re due to start our adventure and Hermione’s lounging with a book beside the pool at the Manor. Sadly, she’s wearing more than I’d hoped, a sensible red bathing suit which covers her body. She places her book down as I arrive, sweating from my workout at the gym, wearing only white boxing shorts and a towel slung around my neck to mop up the sweat. I feel disgusting and in dire need of a shower.

She places her book down and stretches her arms above her head as I sit on the edge of the sun lounger.

"Princess, do tell me why do you insist on covering up like this? I looked forward to coming down here and finding you in the tiniest scrap of a bikini, but here you are in a bathing suit McGonagall might wear." I know I'm winding her up, but I'm genuinely interested in her answer. She has the most fantastic body and she has no problem showing it off in the bedroom in skimpy lingerie but, for reasons only known to herself, not by the pool. 

"It’s certainly not an old lady’s bathing suit, this is a perfectly acceptable Gucci one piece. I bought it on Oxford Street, it's this seasons, high fashion." She peered down at herself trying to figure out what was wrong with it. "Anyway, I'm hardly going to wear next to nothing with your father taking his afternoon constitutional through the gardens at any moment." She harrumphs.

"I thought with your fancy for my father’s hair you'd be going all out to impress him in the bare minimum." I chuckle, earning myself a playful slap to the arm. 

"I swear to Circe, I wish I'd never told you that, you'll never let me live it down!"

She looks so irked I can’t help but burst out laughing. 

"Now, now, sweetheart, I know you only have room for one sexy man in that heart of yours." I croon, sliding my hands over her thighs. I lean in close to her ear, taking in her scent of sun cream, vanilla shampoo and the barest hint of chlorine from the pool. "And I think if you went in the pool house with that particular man, he could fuck your delectable pussy and make you cum in seconds."

Her face and chest flushes deliciously, and she glances nervously around to see if anyone was close enough to hear my filthy discourse. Since being with her I’ve learned how she ticks, how her body works and I’m not boasting about making her orgasm swiftly, as it happens almost every time.

"I couldn't, that would be ill mannered—your mother might come out at any moment and we can’t be heard shagging in the pool house, it’s improper." She complains, but I can see she’s thinking about it as I hook a finger into one of her straps, easing it down a fraction so I can lathe her neck with my tongue more intimately.

"Or you could cum here instead, right in front of the house, princess. I have to say—” I trail my thumb over her pouting lower lip, "I know which one I'd choose."

"Draco Malfoy, don’t you dare! You're incorrigible." She squeaks.

This makes me want her all the more. The thought of ripping aside her bathing suit and plunging deep inside her makes my cock twitch. "I think you mean insatiable, dear." I tug her hand and she reluctantly stands, allowing me to pull her inside the small poolside changing room a few yards away, with constant complaints, that is until I kiss her, my tongue massaging hers as I walk her until her back hits the wooden building.

"You're so hot, Granger, and so damn fuckable." I tell her, hearing her moan as I pull aside her suit and caress her clit with my thumb, my free hand grasping a handful of her luscious arse. "You're a dirty little minx who wants me to fuck her in my parents pool house, aren't you?" She mewls but doesn't answer. "Say it, say you're a dirty minx who wants my cock." I can’t be certain what it is about Hermione, but she brings out an animalistic side of me which makes me want to fuck her fast and rough at every given opportunity. That she loves it like that is a bonus. We have our tender moments, but more time is spent investigating this new and exciting form of lovemaking we’ve discovered since our relationship has developed.

"Draco, please!" She begs as I finger fuck her with two fingers, releasing her backside and moving to thrum her nipples through the smooth fabric.

"Say it!" I demand.

"I'm a dirty minx who wants your cock, please, right now." She begs as I nibble her throat.

God, she is so fucking hot when she does as I ask. Ours is an equal relationship in the main; and by that, I mean she is often still her bossy little self; but in the bedroom, she likes a little domination and, fuck, don’t I love being the one to oblige. Whatever it is between us balances the equilibrium and we are perfect together.

I ram her into the wall, and she clenches on my cock as quickly as I promised, I follow her into oblivion after a few more harsh hip snaps and we slide down to the floor, cackling with laughter.

"I love you." I tell her, my heart swollen with devotion for this woman I love with every fibre of my being.

"I love you too." Her hand is on my cheek, her fingers tracing my eyebrow. I love her tenderness with me, how she becomes boneless and so very sweet in the afterglow. It would take a catastrophe of epic proportions for me to let her go. Anxiety still lingers in my belly that one day she’ll realise I was never worth the effort, but somehow, I damp that down and relish just being with her.

We adjust our clothes and head back to the pool side, giggling like naughty children and I notice my mother looking at her roses from her vantage point on a garden bench not too far away from where we were shagging only moments ago. She has a wistful look about her and I feel concerned. She’s been incredibly busy with the charity business and my father has his own job teaching Teddy, but when she’s at home, she and my father seem distanced from each other, the affection they once shared seems lost and the house has an air of disconnection. I worry for them as life has been awful these past few years and I hate to see them struggling, I just don’t quite know how to broach the subject with either of them.

......

 

**Hermione**

 

I feel awful when I see Narcissa sitting in her garden some yards away from the pool. She looks demure and as well dressed as always, but she's sad, I can see it immediately. 

Draco walks over to his mother and kisses her cheek and I swing on my floral cover-up, following.

"Is everything okay, mother?" I hear Draco murmur as he sits gingerly beside her.

Narcissa reaches over and strokes the tattoos on his arm. "I forgot about these. I'm still not used to them." She replies with a wan smile, tracing the flowers surrounding his dark mark.

He covers her hand with his own and squeezes it lightly, his face sombre.

"I wanted to talk to Hermione, do you mind? Girls stuff." She smiles.

He nods, “Of course, I need a shower anyway.”

“I know, you’re yucky.” Hermione wrinkles her nose.

“And you love it.” He winks.

"I'll see you in a while." I push him away gently with a kiss to his cheek and he chuckles. I’m momentarily distracted as he walks away, I don't think I'll ever be sick of staring at his arse.

Remembering where I am, I quickly focus on Narcissa. "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I sit beside her on the bench as bees busy themselves collecting nectar from the wonderful blooms surrounding us in the lazy summer sun. Crookshanks winds his way around our legs and Narcissa promised he’ll feel relaxed in the Manor when we leave. The old soul will spend his time basking in the sunshine, batting away bees as he does now and being treated like royalty by the matriarch who will miss us while we’re away. I also have a suspicion that Lucius has taken to feeding him titbits from his plate, as he’s gotten a little fatter than I would have liked. He’s happy here and it seems silly to keep him in the apartment when we’re leaving soon. He jumps up and nuzzles us both.

"It's nothing really." She tries to say brightly but I see something is troubling her. Then she expands. "He's become withdrawn."

I realise she's taking of Lucius in very personal way, it’s witch’s intuition. "I'd imagine after spending time in Azkaban, he's struggling to reintegrate" I bump her shoulder lightly. I know she's not one of my girlfriends, well she is a friend, but not in the same way Ginny and I are. I hope it makes her more comfortable to be in my confidence.

"He won't—he doesn't—c-come near me..." She speaks haltingly. “I wanted to speak to Andy, but she and Teddy left to see Ted Tonks mother at the nursing home in Dorset. To be brutally honest, I’m not sure we’re in a place I could ask her something so personal, not yet, it’s been a long time since we were that close, my fault, I know.”

I don't think I've ever seen Narcissa lost for words and I'm not sure how to proceed, but it seems obvious they're struggling to reconnect as a couple. I’ve noticed they’re barely affectionate to one another, but I have no idea what they were like before, I just thought it was the way they were as it’s hard to imagine how an ex Death Eater might act towards his wife. I feel worse because she can see how happy we are together in the first flush of young love and probably overheard us in the damn pool house. I could kill Draco. "He probably feels a bit unsettled still." I offer.

She clutches my hand. "I feel lonelier now he's here because he seeks his own company and sleeps in a guest room—I don't know how to draw him back to our bedroom again. It’s like he feels he doesn’t deserve to pick up where we left off, and while I might agree he’s made our life hell, if we are to remain together, we must make this relationship work, or else, what’s the point. I’ve forgiven him and I know he’s punished himself enough. He’s changed, his actions towards you, Andromeda and Teddy along with the Figg’s are the reason I know this. If he didn’t want to interact with you, I know he’d make his excuses, retire to his room or his study, but it’s clear he’s making amends and even friends. I know he can't mend what happened in the war and that we'll always suffer in some ways because of it, but I want to try to be his wife again and I'm not so sure he's willing to be my husband." 

I listen and I gather intimacy is what she needs, both sexually and emotionally. I doubt she's expecting the advice of someone twenty years her junior to give her all the answers, she just needs someone to talk to. "Have you asked him outright?"

She clutches my hand tighter. "I'm afraid to ask, I'm not sure I can cope with rejection if he’s happy as he is. He’s not getting any younger, perhaps he might not want me like that anymore." 

"There are ways, we're witches after all." I say delicately.

"I've thought of that, but I want him to come to me of his own volition, it would be unbecoming if I used a love potion on my own husband, it would be…unseemly." 

"Not like that,” I begin, treading carefully, “I mean the use of appealing underwear, sending out a clear message that you want him, um, like that." 

She bites her lip, her eyes widening at the thought. I see a spark of excitement in her eyes at my suggestion. "I know this is too much to ask and I’m sorry if it might make you feel uncomfortable, you’ve already done so much for our family…but, will you help me choose the right thing?"

I wasn’t expecting to be directly involved, but if I can help people I care about reconnect, then I feel it’s my duty. "I’ll apparate to a muggle shop I know and bring you something suitable. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you in your room when I get back, how does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful, dear. Thank you so much." She says eagerly.

I run to our rooms and ponder over my conversation with Narcissa as I dress. I’m not a love guru, I mean, for Godrick’s sake, I was a virgin until a few months ago, hardly anywhere near the standard of a sex therapist or decent advisor, but one thing I can do is help her prepare and give her a fighting chance.

Draco is still in the shower as I call through and tell him I’m popping out. He pokes his head out from inside the stall giving me a smouldering look and showing me his stiff cock in his hand. I sigh, shaking my head lamentably, waving goodbye and blowing him a kiss wistfully, then running away before he can lure me into some naughty game I can see forming in his gorgeous dilated greys.

 

.....

 

My trip to Victoria's Secret is fruitful and I return with a full boned emerald corset, embellished with black diamantes, a matching thong and black seamed stockings, rushing to Narcissa’s room with my non-descript bag. There are a few things for Draco I purchased in another bag which I hide away behind a suit of armour and along with some toys from Anne Summers I thought I might broach with caution if today goes well for Narcissa and she’s open for more ways to spice up their love life. I do, however, put some chocolate body paint in Narcissa’s bag.

"Draco and I will go back to my flat tonight, and I've already spoken to the elves, they'll leave you alone after eight." I pass her the underwear and she cover’s her mouth as she looks over them.

"Oh my, I'm sure I just couldn't, there’s so little of it." She gasps, holding the thong between her thumb and forefinger, starting at it like it might up and run away.

"That’s the point. You can, you'll look fabulous. All you need to do is walk into his room like the confident woman you are, lean against the doorframe, give him a sultry look and walk slowly away so he can see what you have to offer. He’ll follow without question, just to see what’s underneath that fabulous get up. Now, I think black sky-high heels will be just the thing to wear with this, do you have some?"

Narcissa is still staring at the thong, lost in thought. “Sorry my dear, did you say something?”

“Never mind.” I start rummaging through Narcissa’s closet and find the perfect pair of shoes and hand them to her. “Wear your hair in the style he always liked best, free and long if that’s what he prefers, a smoky eye, sultry lip gloss and other than that, a spritz of your best scent on each pulse point should complete the look.”

“Yes, err, although I’m beginning to wonder if I’m happy as I am, I can get through this without bothering him.” Narcissa drops the underwear on the bed and backs away.

She has this nervous look that I’ve never seen before, like she’s about to chicken out. I feel a momentary urge to shake her but wouldn’t do anything of the sort. Instead I take her hand and decide to give her a pep talk. “Bothering him? Narcissa, you cannot seriously be making out this is all about his wants and his needs? You’re a strong and independent woman, for Merlin’s sake. You managed without him and your son for over a year, alone in this house, something that may have driven any other woman mad. I feel you’re missing the point here and that is you need to be happy; you need to live your life for you and not just back out because you’re afraid of what he might say, I know you have it in you. He might be waiting for you to make the first move because he feels he doesn’t deserve you like that, and I think you’re both far too young to say you’ll never be intimate again. I believe that he needs this as much as you do and I promise you, it may take time but the young man you married is still in there, he’s just lost his way, so you bring him back to you. Bring him home to you, Narcissa.” Her hands are shaking but I see a look of resolve on her face.

“Right, I will do that, Lucius is not going to know what hit him when the clock chimes eight.” She agrees, nodding tearfully.

I sigh with relief. “Your son is grown and this is your time now, time to do all the things you always wanted.” I pass her a business card for Victoria’s Secret. “This is for a discrete woman called Beth at the store I visited, now go and have a long soak in the bath, use all your best oils and ready yourself.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, darling.” She draws me close for a hug.

“It’ll be fine and more than thanks enough to see you happy again.” I wink, heading off to find Draco.

I find him loitering worriedly in the corridor outside the master bedroom.

“What was all that about? Is she ill? Does she have women’s problems?” He asks.

“Nothing to worry about, she just wanted to talk to a woman about a few intimate items. She’ll be fine.” I assure him. “We’ll be going back to the flat tonight. I have a few things I need to do.”

He seems to accept that and we floo to London once we have our things together.

 

**Draco**

After a hastily fixed supper of soup and sandwiches at the apartment, Hermione and I settle down to watch a muggle movie on the TV. There are all those annoying advertising breaks Hermione constantly complains about, but which fascinate me with all the strange goods they offer. I ponder over whether I should buy some life insurance as she gets up to make a cup of tea to avoid them, it says it’s never too early to care for your loved ones. It’s past eight-thirty when I hear her curse from the kitchen.

“Oh, shit, I left a shopping bag behind the suit of armour near your mother’s room.” She complains. “I’ll have to go back for it tomorrow.”

I don’t see why I can’t go back right now and head to the floo to grab it for her. “I’ll get it now, I won’t be a moment.” I call over to her, stepping into the floo, hearing her shout out a loud no, as I do. She should know by now it isn’t an inconvenience to do anything for her. Anyway, I thought I might pinch a few pastries from the elves to sweeten her annoyance with our advertising break cuppa.

Stepping into the foyer at the Manor, I hear a distant shout. Listening for the direction I hear another and rush up the stairs towards the master bedroom. I can hear a banging noise and then another shriek. It reminds me of those awful days when Voldemort resided here, and I can’t help but be worried.

I stop as I see a low light emitting from my mother’s room, pausing to listen.

“Oh, Godrick, Lucius, yes, yes, yes!” My mother’s voice yells.

Holy Salazar’s bollocks! My mother and father are shagging and being none too quiet about it. In fact, they’re giving me and Hermione a run for our money. I feel like I might vomit on the parquet flooring and quickly find Hermione’s bag, rushing from the house with my hands covering my ears.

Arriving back at the flat I find Hermione waiting for me with her hands on her hips. I’m clearly in trouble but not sure why.

“I told you not to go, it could’ve waited. This is your parents alone time.” She chastises.

I sit with a thump on the sofa, dazed for some moments before Hermione comes to sit by me.

“You look rather pale, are you feeling well?” She asks, feeling my head for a fever.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be alright again, Hermione.” I groan, “I just heard my mother shrieking my father’s name like a wailing banshee. I’m scarred for life.” I tell her.

She instantly begins to giggle and jumps up to do a little dance. “It worked, and in record time too!”

“What worked? What were you two conniving women up to?” I stand shakily to pour myself a cup of well brewed Yorkshire tea, the strongest thing in our home nowadays and Hermione’s favourite.

“I won’t reveal all the details, but your mother confided that things weren’t back to how they were, you know, um, in the bedroom.” She reveals.

“Yuck!” I have the urge to put my hands over my ears again. Nobody wants to hear the details of their parent’s sex life, or even lack of it. “I won’t listen to this.” I grimace.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Draco. I’m glad my advice worked. They must have started having sex almost immediately.” She gives me an evil grin, like she’s some evil witch with a masterplan.

I cover my ears and begin to shout, “Lalalalalalalalalalalalala!!!!”

“Sex, your parents have sex!” She jeers happily, “How do you think you were born I wonder?”

“I was delivered by the Draconis constellation one night when my mother wished for me.” I whine. I know it’s not true but when I asked my mother how wizards were born aged seven, that’s what she told me. Of course, I know that isn’t the way, I could’ve produced a dozen heirs by now, but as far as my parents are concerned, I’d rather believe they were as chaste as the driven snow and visited by a bloody sky dragon made of stars.

“Even you can’t believe that codswallop Draco?” She giggles.

“I don’t want to know.” I groan.

She comes over and pecks my cheek. “Alright, I won’t say any more about it, you can remove your hands from your ears now. I just hope any children we might have are less prudish than you when they find out we have sex.” She chuckles.

Thank Merlin for small mercies. The film starts again, and we settle in to watch. I pout and she laughs at me. If I ever hear another word about my parents shagging, I might lose my gobstones.

……….

**Hermione**

 

Monday comes around too quickly and I awake to Draco wrapped around me in a tangle of sheets and the telephone ringing insistently. He complains as I ease myself from his grip and rush to answer the phone before it wakes him too.

 

_“Hello?”_

_“Hermione, darling, this is Narcissa calling to tell you we had a fabulous weekend and hardly slept a wink, everything you advised worked.”_

 

Not sure what to say to that, I just clear my throat and say, _“How lovely, I’m so glad.”_ I know it’s weird, but I can’t think of anything else.

 

_“I know this is a strange situation for you to be involved in but thank you for everything you did, I couldn’t have done it without you. In fact, there is a lot over these past months I wouldn’t have done without knowing you.”_ She says sincerely.

 

_“I’m glad I was of help and I’m excited for the foundation, you’ll help so many people.”_ I reply.

 

_“I’ll miss you both when you leave, but promise you’ll owl regularly, won’t you? And perhaps I can secure a portkey to meet you somewhere exotic for a few days, I’d dearly love some sun, although my dear Lucius is still cannot leave the country for now.”_

 

_“You’re very welcome, just let us know in plenty of time so we can tell you where we’ll be exactly. There’s no real plan, we feel it would do us good to wander and do as we like.”_ I admit, although I’m terrified as hell at the thought of relinquishing control of the itinerary. The old me would have everything planned, right up until the portkey home but I know constant control isn’t the best thing for my sobriety, so I’ve relinquished it, settling for only visiting cities or towns which offer an alcoholics anonymous group.

 

Narcissa sounds forlorn at us leaving, but we have a life to begin too and now is the best time for us to leave, before jobs or maybe marriage and babies fill our future. We just want to be young and do the things other young people get the chance to do, to find ourselves and make love under the stars.

As we prepare to say our goodbyes, a feeling of disquiet rushes over me. I returned to the Ministry a few weeks ago to serve out my one month notice period, feeling it was best to occupy my time while Draco researched the set-up of the new wizarding Primary school, preparing a long-term goal with the Ministry department for Education and Professor McGonagall. If all goes to plan, muggle and magical students who will start at the school in two years-time will move on to Hogwarts in six years when they reach eleven. Draco asked me to be a part of it eventually, even suggesting they would do well if I was to teach or even run the school, but we agreed since I was in recovery that we’d travel for a year first and make my dream of beginning a world-wide trip together in Morocco, a reality. I can’t be sure I’ll be able to cope with the pressure of responsibility just yet, but only time will tell.

There’s a wallet with tickets on the table, along with our passports and international portkeys. We’ve decided to ensure we can travel in both muggle and magical ways, purely because some countries don’t allow unmarried couples to stay together in the same accommodation, although wizarding communities rarely care about such semantics. We even discussed marriage to ensure our safety but felt it was a tad too early for all that, and we would be doing it for all the wrong reasons even though we both believe it will happen eventually. We just want to enjoy ourselves and leave all the big life decisions for our return. Our trunks are packed and hidden in Draco’s rucksack, using an undetectable extension charm. As always, I’m prepared for every eventuality and I fully plan on camping in some countries, a fact Draco isn’t quite aware of yet. I daydream for a moment of the vast Serengeti and camping near a waterhole after a dusty day of tramping trails and watching wild animal’s pad into the camp, or camping on the foothills of Machu Picchu, hidden from the locals by disillusionment charms to watch the stars. I try to imagine what wandering the medina in Morocco might be like and my stomach flips, I can almost taste my fantasy, it’s there within my grasp. The thought of doing all this alongside Draco is a dream come true, I can’t wait to make memories for us both as we start our life together.

We have a few people to visit before we leave later, so this morning we’ll be going to see Chris at his tattoo parlour and Harry at Cassandra’s house. The children can’t wait to see us again and Harry told me they haven’t shut up about it for weeks. Then one final stop at the Weasley’s to say goodbye. Mrs Figg is busy with the charity house but popped over to see us a few days ago to say goodbye and we’ve already said goodbye to Teddy and Andromeda before their holiday in Dorset.

I spend a moment glancing over the London skyline as I sip my coffee through the windows of my apartment. Life has delivered everything I ever wanted, everyone I love is safe and happy, everyone who ever tried to hurt me is locked away or gone. I have my sobriety and the love of my life is sleeping in the other room. The future of the children of the wizarding community is left in the hands of people who want only the best for them, and I feel peace for once, I feel able to leave and take a break away, knowing they are happy. Today is going to be a good day, I can feel my magic dance in my core.

……..

**Draco**

 

“Chris, you old git, I can’t believe you own this place, I need one more tattoo before we leave for Morocco, something good.” I stride over and embrace my friend. Chris is the best friend I ever had, a gentle giant of a man who’d do anything for anyone, including an ex-Death Eater. I feel an itch at the back of my throat at the thought of leaving him.

“Me Lord Drax, it’s an honour and a privilege, what do you fancy this time? If Hermione’s willing to strip off, I’ll tattoo her whole body on you.” He snickers.

“Or perhaps you should strip off and I’ll tattoo your whole body on him.” Rose sniggers as she wanders into the shop. So, this is Rose Shacklebolt? I watch Chris’s eyes as they follow her. She has a pretty smile and to be fair I think he might be punching above his weight with this young woman, that is, until she shakes my hand cordially and heads back to him with a look of adoration on her face. I notice he’s had his teeth fixed and because of that he looks younger than he once did because he beams at her in a way that makes it obvious, he’s in love with her.

“I’ve finished the tat on the eighteen-year-old.” She glances at Hermione and flushes, whispering in Chris’ ear.

“Ah,” he purses his lips, “a generic pussy was the best choice.” He nods in agreement.

“That better not be what I think it is.” I hiss, moving closer and glowering at my mate.

“Err, what can I say? They love the golden girl and want every part of her tattooed on them.” Chris Grimaces. “Anyway, I know a young bloke who once wanted the same, we’re artists and we do as we’re asked.” He gives me a most unsettling grin and shrugs.

I glance back at Hermione, who’s looking at the catalogue of available tattoos. I can’t complain as I know what he’s getting at, so I scowl.

“Anything you fancy?” Rose moves to Hermione’s side.

“I’d like something original, and since me riding out of Gringotts on the dragon is already taken, perhaps Chris would do me the honour of designing one of me in the battle of Hogwarts?” Hermione eyes me with displeasure.

“No, hang on a minute, love. If you want that one so much, either you can have a duplicate or I’ll have mine covered with something else. You can do that, can’t you mate?” I blurt at Chris. I love my tat, but I love her more and I’d do anything for her.

“What about a similar one, but with Draco and Hermione riding the dragon together in a star lit sky over Draconis?” Rose says, taking out some transfer paper and doodling an image of a star filled sky, etching out the dragon and its riders.

“I knew there must be a reason I love you.” Chris blushes as he moved to look over Rose’s shoulder. I notice his arm curl around her waist and how her head cocks to lay on his arm. She’s petit but dressed similarly to Chris in muggle jeans and a black, backless rock t-shirt showing off the artwork which works its way along their spines in a spectacular fashion. Studded belts grace their hips and both wear muggle Doc Martens on their feet. Rose’s dark skin shines with colourful tats of orange and blue koi karp, which swim from her back to dive into a dark pool on the lower lumbar region of Chris’s and I watch as her dreadlocks wind to caress the nape of his neck. I’m enamoured with the magic it’s taken to create such amazing ink and how close they’ve become. He’s a good man and he deserves love just like anyone.

“What do you think, princess?” I gather Hermione into my arms as I move behind her, “It’s your decision.” I murmur into her hair.

“I want a magical one, I want it to change from your one of me with Harry and Ron on the dragon to surge into the sky and do as Rose suggested.” She grins.

“Where would you like it?” Rose turns to Hermione, her pen poised.

“On my back, I want to feel us dip into the base of my spine and ride the ladder of my back up to the stars.”

Chris kisses Roses temple and turns to Hermione, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “Your wish is our command, sweetheart.” His eyes light up as Rose leads Hermione to the back room.

I watch her leave. “She’ll be alright, won’t she mate? The back hurts normally.”

“Not with magical numbing, neither will yours when she works on it. You’ll feel something you never expected, Drax, it’s like the magic strokes your soul and it feels so, ugh, so amazin’. I never thought I’d ever feel magic ‘till I met my briar Rose. Meeting you gave me the odd jolt, mate, and I have to admit I was enamoured with the buzz you gave me when I did your tattoos, bloody took the edge off the addiction, it did. It was like plunging the tip of a needle into something pure.” He sits heavily on a chair. “But her, there’s nothing like her. Rose brought me back to life when she started working here and we moved from employer/employee to lovers right quick. I fuckin’ adore her mate and she’s the only one here who can do magical tat’s”

“Happy for you mate.” I nod. “But you said witches and wizards are into having muggle tattoos when I last saw you?” I sit before him and lean in.

“And that’s what’s keeping the business going, but eventually they’ll go back to wanting magical I can’t deliver. I, um, yours and my mum are excited as Rose—well, she’s expectin’ and they think it’ll help squibs blend back into society, along with your mum and dad. Kings, well, he’s happy to be a grand-uncle and I’m just—fucking hell mate, I’m fucking thrilled, totally gobsmacked, I never thought it would ever happen to me. I just don’t know what’ll happen when she can’t work, if they don’t want muggle no more”

“I’m made up for you, mate, I didn’t think being involved with me would bring you anything else but pain. Rose is beautiful and real and I’m so happy for you both.” I move to sit beside him, clapping him on the back. “We don’t have long, Hermione and I leave tonight, so you’d better get your weird muggle camera out and take photos of my muggle tattoos for your shop. I’m making some calls and I’ll have them all over the wizarding world by dawn. There are people that owe us both, including that bitch Skeeter.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aww, I'm sad to say this is the final chapter of the thriller-drama, Dark Figure. I hope you'll get in touch and let me know how you found the story, I'm always so happy to hear from you.   
> I have plans for a couple of follow up fics to Dark Figure, one being 'The Malfoy Primary School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' and because of that, there won't be an epilogue.   
> So this is it folks, thanks for your support. I'm heading off to work on 'A Mother's Love' next and hope to get a chapter to you soon.   
> Thanks so much to the amazing and talented @badwolfjedi for her beta work, her continued support, her fantastic board for this fic and for just being generally awesome <3

**Hermione**

“It’s just so lovely that Chris has found someone, I was surprised to hear Rose is pregnant already.” I comment as we arrive at Grimmauld Place.

Draco chuckles, “Chris never did anything by half. They seem very happy though.”

“Yeah, it’s really sweet, he’s besotted with her and I know he’ll make a great dad. He cares about people, although I heard that comment about how people requisition parts of my body to be tattooed on them.” I scowl, it’s just rather icky and I’d prefer they didn’t, but what can I do? Wait at the shop and tell every one of them how weird it is? That would probably make the sicko’s day. They know Draco did the same to himself before we were a couple, as the story of us getting together has somehow got out and Skeeter has splashed it across the Prophet, so that was like a bloody green light to do as they please with my image. I can’t understand what people’s fascination is with us, I know Draco is a redeemed Death Eater but for Merlin’s sake, are their lives so unfulfilled that they need to live vicariously through us?

“He said the body parts he uses are generic, anyway, how in the hell would anyone know what your parts look like? You even wear an old granny’s swimsuit to cover the best bits.” He grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders and nipping at my earlobe, causing me to shiver and then elbow him in the ribs.

“I told you that was fashionable!” I shrug him off as he laughs, “You’re just teasing! Just, you wait! Unless you’re wearing budgie smugglers on the beach when we get to the tropics, I’ll be picking on you too for being prudish.” I pretend to be angry, but nowadays we’ve settled into friendly banter, there’s no more of the nasty quips we might once have used on each other, now only loving flirtatious snipes.

“You’d better be joking, Granger, no man with an ounce of taste would wear something so hideous.” He pouts but then I notice a slow grin spread across his face. “Anyway, I plan to wear nothing at all, beat that with your Gucci one-piece, sweet pea.” He winks.

I call out into the hallway for Harry, but it seems he’s not home, so we leave via the front door and walk down to number 6. Harry must be at Cassandra’s unless he’s gone to work, although he’d said he wasn’t working today when I floo called him yesterday.

I rap on the red door and Lily opens it wide with an excited grin.

“They’re here! They’re here mummy, Harry!” She dances and shouts so loudly I want to cover my ears.

I see Harry rush along the hallway, scooping Peter up into his arms as he heads for the door. “Oi, you!” He tickles the boy, before placing him on the floor. “No running off out the door again.”

Cassandra carefully moves up behind Harry, looking a little embarrassed and I notice him wind his fingers through hers and give them a squeeze.

“Come in, come in, you’re both very welcome, I’ll make us some tea.” Cassandra gestures, blushing as Harry knocks her shoulder with his own.

Lily rushes into my arms and almost knocks me over. “Hermione! We’re so glad to see you, it feels like years since we last saw you and I’ve got so much to tell you about school and the park, and my new toys, and…” She prattles on in my ear, until I swiftly lose track of all the things she wants to tell me.

My heart blooms as Draco follows me inside and Peter holds his arms out to be picked up. Draco smiles and whisks him into his arms. “Da-co!” he touches Draco’s face and turns and points to me, “min-nee-gan-ger!” I wonder if this gorgeous little boy will ever get his head around just calling me Hermione.

“Hello, little soldier, have you been good for your mummy?” Draco holds him close and I’m almost melting at the sight, my heart along with my eyes. My man with a child in his arms never ceases to make my ovaries throb with need, but I’m not broody, not yet, but I still like to think of us with a family in the future. Peter holds out a small toy car and drives it over Draco’s shoulder in reply.

“Are you excited about your trip?” Lily asks as I put her down and hold her hand as we head for the kitchen.

“Oh, yes, we’re really looking forward to seeing so many new things, I really can’t wait to get there.” I tell her, “I’ll miss everyone though, we’ll bring you all presents home when we come home.” Lily’s lip wobbles momentarily but she soon becomes distracted as we arrive in the kitchen.

It seems so different here this time, without the horrors of what had happened to the children and Cassandra in bits, thinking they were dead. The kitchen is warm and there’s a cosy nook near the fireplace I hadn’t noticed last time. We all sit on the sofas by a roaring fire and Harry goes off to make the tea. Lily snuggles happily into my side and Peter jumps off Draco’s lap, returning a moment later hauling a box of toy cars which is far too heavy for him, yet he doesn’t let that phase him.

“Peter, sweetheart, don’t get all of those out, you choose one and let Draco choose one too, you know what I said about sharing.” Cassandra smiles gently at her youngest.

Peter’s eyes are on Draco as he places the box on his lap. “Da-co choose?” He cocks his head in the most adorable way and Draco picks a blue truck from the box. Peter slyly takes two cars and glances back to see whether his mother is looking. I watch Draco suppress a laugh.

“What colour is this truck?” Draco wonders.

Peter shouts, “’ellow!”

“You’re a very clever boy Peter.” Draco pats his head indulgently, even though the truck was blue.

“How have you been?” I turn and ask Cassandra.

She gives me a wan smile and turns to Lily, “Darling, would you take Peter to wash his hands, we’ll have some scones if you both do it properly with no arguments.”

Lily jumps down and takes Peters hand, dragging him out of the room in a comical way.

“I’m sorry Hermione, I just didn’t want to talk about the therapist in front of them,” Cassandra sighs, “It’s been hard on all of us, we’ve been seeing a family therapist to deal with what happened. The children seem to be faring better than me, and Harry’s been a godsend, so supportive, he’s always around when we need him.” She looks up to Harry; who’s carrying a tea tray filled with a plate of scones, jam and cream; and blushes again.

“It’s been a pleasure to help you, love. You know being here has helped me too, it’s nice being part of a family.” Harry beams.

I watch them interact and there’s no doubt they’re together as a couple, it’s the simple gestures and the way Harry orbits to sit at her side which make it obvious.

“We called in at number 12 and it’s a bit dusty, not that the place was ever much different.” I chuckle.

Harry reddens and clears his throat. “I, err, well, no, I haven’t been home in weeks, I-I…”

“No need to explain, Potter,” Draco waves his hand, “what’s going on between you two is your own business.”

“Yes, um, sorry if you think I’m prying, I’m just happy for your both.” I grimace at my own idiocy. It’s not like me to put my foot in it. Clearly this is new for them and with the fact Sirius was Cassandra’s ex, I can imagine it’s been something they’ve both had to work though.

Draco moves closer and puts his arm around me, rubbing my shoulder in soothing circles with his thumb.

“The Ministry have made recompense for the struggles we’ve been through, so we’re paying for the therapy sessions with that.” Harry looks to his hands. “I’ve been offered a position, well, two quite different ones actually. One is Head Auror for the Ministry, and then, I can’t quite believe it myself, I’ll be honest. An owl arrived this morning asking me to train to replace Babajide Akingbade when he retires next year as Supreme Mugwamp.” He glances at Cassandra and she places her hand on his. “My head’s in such a spin I don’t know what to do.” Harry removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks so overwhelmed I’m worried he might cry.

I’m gobsmacked and place my hand over my mouth. I don’t know of anyone else who’s more deserving of the position, after all, the Supreme Mugwamp stands against corruption and that’s exactly what Harry has done his whole life, it just seems a huge responsibility to take on, one I’m not sure he’s ready for yet. “B-but that’s—Harry, that’s amazing!” I stand and throw myself into his arms, hugging him tightly. We’ve been through so much together there aren’t the words to tell him how much I feel he deserves this. After a long hug, he sits back and I release him with a sniffle, moving carefully back to my seat.

“It would mean moving to Paris, to be near the International Confederation of Wizards headquarters, or commuting via portkey daily. Cassandra and I, err, I-I’ve asked her and the children to come with me. We want to get married eventually, although we know it’s only been a few months, we know it’s right for us, and it’ll give the children a little more stability than they’ve had over these past years, me too possibly.”

“You’ll be the youngest ever Supreme Mugwamp in history!” I clap gleefully after quickly checking the recesses of my mind for the information I once read about the confederation.

“I know, and that’s why I’m not sure about all this Hermione.” Harry stands and begins to pace. “What if I’m making the wrong decision? What if it’s better for me to stay here and be Head Auror? How can I protect the British Wizarding world from so far away? What if something else happens and I’m not here next time?”

I rush to his side and clasp his hand. “Harry, you can’t live your life worrying like this, you’ve done enough.” I soothe and Draco speaks out in a way he never would before he got to know Harry.

“Potter, you can’t carry the peace and safety of wizarding Britain on your shoulders forever. If the Ministry have learned one thing from the Dark Figure debacle, is that they need to become more stringent with their security checks and procedures. The enemy is never going to just pop up and say hi, here we are Potter, we’re just starting another movement and we thought we’d give you the heads up. They come from nowhere, and sometimes the good guys are the bad guys as we’ve recently experienced. You can’t waste your life wondering what’ll be next and forget to bloody live it.”

Draco has a fair point, so I pipe up in support. “Harry, you’ll be in a better position to oversee magical governments, along with national security and education from Paris, more than in a stressful job that is pretty much guaranteed to turn you grey before you’re thirty. When will you ever get an opportunity like this again? Probably never. Now is your time, Harry, right now. Dumbledore would be proud.”

I know Dumbledore’s a contentious issue, he was loved by us, but he was never straight with any of us, leading Harry on a merry dance that almost lost him his life. Still, the thought of him still feels like home and we miss him, because luckily all ended as the wizened wizard planned, if it hadn’t, then that might be another story. I see the tears in Harry’s eyes and how he removes his glasses once more, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Why me? I’ve been asking that of myself all day, why do they want me?” He sniffles, taking out a hankie from his pocket and mopping his eyes.

“Far be it for me to make that huge head of yours any bigger, Potter, but it’s because you have the integrity and experience, they want in someone of that station. Don’t worry too much, there’s still room for you to fuck it up for yourself before Akingbade retires.” Draco mocks in a friendly way.

“Draco!” I slap his arm, “This is serious.”

My slap seems to diffuse the tension as Harry shoots back a quip that deserved an Order of Merlin in itself.

“Malfoy, I realise you’ve always been jealous of me but if you’re a good boy I’ll offer you a job cleaning toilets at the ICW Headquarters.”

I snicker but Draco appears to be considering it, he nods his head.

“I might be tempted, whats the money like?” Draco retorts jovially. “There’ll need to be a clean potty for Potter’s botty.” Draco and Harry, like most men, adore toilet humour, and crack up laughing.

“I wouldn’t trust you with anything near my botty.” Harry chuckles.

“Now, now children,” Cassandra interjects shaking her head and rolling her eyes, “My babies will be returning in the next few seconds and I think we need to show some decorum, I don’t want my kids going to school and telling stories about Harry’s backside.”

We all burst out laughing.

The children return and cuddle into my side as we eat and drink, just chatting about our trip for a while.

Harry rises and head to the back door for a cigarette and I follow him, I spy Draco looking wistfully towards the door, he gave up several months ago but still craves the evil weed.

“I thought you said you only had the odd one on a stakeout?” I close the door gently behind me as I follow my best friend.

“Ah, so you caught me. I’m trying to give it up, I’ve promised I won’t let the kids see me. Cassandra is worried for my health. It’s just a bit of a crutch at the moment, while I make some hard decisions, I promise.” He blows a plume of smoke over his head in a hidden corner of the garden.

“A likely story, but if anyone knows how hard it is to recover from addiction, I suppose it’s me. Just don’t let it get its hooks into you forever.” I sigh, trying not to be too bossy about it.

“This job…Hermione I thought you’d be able to tell me what to do, you were always so methodical about helping me work through these things. I’ve missed you and I’ll miss you more when you leave.”

“I’ll miss you too, but like I said before, we can’t live in each-other’s pockets like we did when we were children, Harry. Draco was right, you have a life to live without fear of what will happen here.”

“I know that, and it seems sensible in the light of day, but at night I still wake up worried I’m missing something, that another group will attack, and I’ll be too late this time. I’ve been seeing a therapist too. She said I put the safety of others above my own and I need to learn how to put myself first.”

“Tell me about it. My counsellor in recovery said the same thing. It’s why Draco and I are leaving for a time, so we can find ourselves and remember how to enjoy life without anyone looking over our shoulders.” I move to perch on a metal garden chair. “There are moments in this life when you have to decide whats best for you and only you. When you become Supreme Mugwamp, the eyes of the wizarding world will be on you and you’ll have to fight for your privacy, along with that of Cassandra and the children. If you think you can do this, then do it, because I have every faith in the changes you can make. But, if there’s the slightest chance you think you won’t be able to cope with the media frenzy, then make your first job a new international law to get them to back off.” I giggle and I’m happy to see his features relax into his trademark grin.

“I love you, Hermione, you’re my best friend and I feel like I’m losing you because we have to grow up.” His green eyes are questioning, like they always have been when he looks at me. I feel like he’s asking me if things have to change. I think he knows once we leave today that each decision will be his own and in a way I pity him for that, but isn’t that what growing up is about?

I loop my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. “Never. I’ll always be here for you, even if you want to talk in the middle of the night from some country we’ve never heard of. Bring the wizarding world the peace it deserves, Harry, and you’ll never have to worry again.”

He kisses my head and we stay like that for a few minutes, wrapped in each-other’s arms. It feels like a chapter has ended in our lives and a new one is about to begin.

“So, you and Cassandra, eh?” I venture, watching him colour at the thought of her.

“I love her, Hermione. I thought I loved Ginny once, but this is so different. She just gets me, you know. She’s kind, beautiful and intelligent, everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve walked into a readymade family and between you and me, she’s already said if I want children, she’d be happy to have more. I feel…I feel like she is one last gift Sirius has left for me. I know it’s strange, but I think he’d approve of me taking care of them, because he knows they will take care of me too. They’re also like my last link to him.”

“Peter is already so like him with his cheeky ways.” I agree. “Although from what I’ve heard of the Marauder’s at Hogwarts, you might have your hands full with that one.” I grin.

“When did this happen?” Harry looks down at me sorrowfully, his voice tinged with sadness, “When did we suddenly become adults with responsibilities? Even Ron has taken on a role that wasn’t meant for him because he feels a duty to help his family. I want the perfect life for him too, not for him to step into his dead brother’s shoes and find himself stuck there forever while we move onwards and upwards.”

“I have a feeling Tracey won’t allow it and when Ron finds his way, I know she’ll support him. His family aren’t ogres, they’ve had a rough time of things but now Angelina and George are back together, I can’t imagine they’d force him to stay at the shop and I know he won’t want to miss any opportunities that might dry up eventually when we become old hat.”

Harry chuckles, “The Golden Trio, becoming old hat, the chance would be a fine thing.” He’s silent for moment, “You’ll be back for the wedding though, you promise? I know we may be beginning new lives, but I could never stand beside Ron on his big day without you holding my hand.” Harry’s green eyes pierce mine as if daring me to say I’ll be away.

I slap his chest. “Don’t be silly, I would never miss something so special, I’ll always be there for you both and don’t you forget it.” I stand and nudge his arm with mine.

Following a lovely few hours of tea, scones and chatting, it’s time to go. The children are tearful, and I find it hard to leave them once more. We promise to visit as soon as we return, and I watch as Peter comes to give a tiny car to Draco as a gift.

Harry cuddles me tightly and I watch Draco accept the car and a huge hug from both the children before we leave, tears spilling from my eyes.

“Good luck, Harry, whatever you chose will be for the best.” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. “You have a lovely family and I’m so happy for you all.”

**Draco**

I knew it would be a wrench for Hermione to leave Harry and I wasn’t wrong. My witch is still sobbing in my arms as we apparate from the back of the house to the new Weasley home, off Diagon Alley. The townhouse seems more like a Weasley house when I spot the strange orange knitted curtains in the front windows, they look higgledy-piggedly and out of place on such a smart residence. Still, they may not be to my taste but I’m looking forward to visiting again, the family always make me feel welcome and I love the homely look and smell of the inside, however much my snooty pureblood tastes balk at it. I remind myself I lived in the shittiest circumstances in muggle London and how I would have loved to have something like those homemade curtains to brighten up the grey room I lived in for over a year.

I hand Hermione my handkerchief. I’ve brought spares as I know this will be an emotional day for my princess.

She mops up her tears and straightens her back. “Right!” She says in a cavalier way which doesn’t pull the wool over my eyes for one moment. She knocks on the door and walks in with her head held high, bursting into tears again once she sees Molly.

"Oh, my dear, we're going to miss you too. I know exactly what this is all about." The Weasley matriarch pulls her close and looks over her shoulder at me, ushering me closer to join the hug. Some things never seem to change, and this woman has enough love in her heart for everyone. Suddenly I miss my own mother and regardless of whether I walked in on my parents in flagrante de lecto, I feel the urge to go home and say goodbye to her properly. They've known we were leaving but they seemed to take it in their stride, used to us being apart, I suppose. 

"Err, Molly, do you mind if I use your floo to go back to the Manor, I think there's something I forgot." 

I swear the woman is a mind reader as she cups my face, giving me a knowing look.

"Of-course sweetheart." 

I watch her usher Hermione to the kitchen for something or other, most likely hot chocolate if my past experiences of invitations while Hermione was in recovery with Potter are still true and I feel it’s best to leave her there for now.

Stepping into the fire I wonder if we're doing the right thing as I don't think Hermione should feel so upset to go away on her dream trip, it's a happy thing and I'm concerned. I'd like to say Hermione is still an enigma, but I've sobbed my heart out in her arms while I was trying to get over my own issues too. It's funny how I can assume how she's going to react. I suppose it just means we both know each other like no others do. Even Potter doesn't know how she looks while she comes apart at my hand, how she snuggles into my side at night when she's had a bad dream, or how her lips and tongue trace my pecs as I fuck her. She's predictable when she needs emotional support though, and I see her tick, the one where she takes a few deep breaths and then another, she smiles awkwardly and then her brow furrows before the tears come. I wonder if she notices the same about me.

I walk into the foyer of the Manor and walk to the parlour. I see my father sitting reading alone next to the fire. He looks up and smiles in a way I've never seen at the sight of me before.

"Draco, what are you doing here? I thought you left for your trip today?" He raises a hand to usher me inside.

"We're leaving this evening." I walk in and stand near the fire in silence.

"Are things alright, son? Are you here for the ring?" 

I look up and he looks confused. "Not yet, much as I'd want it, she isn't the sort of woman who puts marriage over everything else in her life. In fact, if she says she never wants it, I'll still be by her side until she decides she doesn't want me anymore."

Lucius looks perplexed for a moment but eventually speaks. "Whatever she wants I told you not to let her go, Draco. I know if your mother and I hadn't been married then we may not have made it thus far if we hadn't been bonded, but it didn't help me make a better job of things before and when I came back from Azkaban."

"Hmm." I nod, not sure where he's going with this.

"What I'm trying to say, is you have her, you don't need magic or marital vows to tell you that you deserve to be together. I know you Draco, and she's always been in the back of your mind, even when you thought you shouldn't want her, it's why I said not to let her go when you visited me in my cell." 

Yeah, because you thought she was your exit from imprisonment, I think scornfully. "I just thought you wanted to get out, if I'm honest, father, I didn't quite believe it then. I know since you've come home things are different with Hermione but back on our visit to the prison it was hard to believe." Fuck, I didn't intend a sodding heart to heart, or possible fist to fist with Lucius today. I know it’s been a long time coming, we've been skirting the issue since his return and the moment was never right for a conversation which could potentially turn into a bitter row. 

"Believe it, I meant what I said, and it was the truth, Draco. I adore that girl. I always thought a lot of her spunk and intelligence, and I was always proud of you, whether she surpassed you in your lessons, whether I said it or not. She challenged you then and she challenges you now and that makes me proud because the two of you are well suited, much as myself and your Mother are.” I watch him twist his Malfoy ring on his little finger before he continues. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you as a boy, but I allowed my pride and my upbringing to stop me from telling you how much I love you."

His voice raises my hackles and slam my fist onto the mantle peace, flecks of wood shatter and fall to the floor. "To say that now is unfair, father, we were accepting the fact we we're part of this family without true honesty with each other over what happened. The reason I think it’s not fair, is because I'm leaving tonight and I don't want to review this conversation every time I close my fucking eyes when travel the world!" I rip another lump from the antique fireplace and throw it to the floor.

"Honesty is something we'll both have to deal with if we're to remain father and son and I'm to stay in your good graces. I know I don't deserve you or your mother and that troubles my every breath, but the time has come for me to tell you how sorry I am for everything and for us to have this out Draco, however inopportune the timing, because if we don’t, I think you will continue to carry this burden and you need to let it go. Not for me, however much I wish it, but for you, or it'll haunt you for the rest of your life. In know it's too late for a fresh start for me, but not you."

His voice is calm, and that annoys me further. Why does the man feel so calm about it? I want to rage at him, to force the answers to everything he’s done from him.

"So what?” I hiss, “You unburden yourself on me and I just accept it! Fuck! Do you think I want to be here when I'm about to leave the country listening to your shit? Hermione hears me crying in pain at night and I haven't spoken to you because I don't want you to think less of me, less of your only son!" I yell at him, picking up the poker and jabbing energetically at the fire. 

"Then say it, Draco, tell me what you think of me, rid yourself of all the terrible things I've done and what burdens you. I can't continue to walk this earth unless I have my family but if you don't want me to be a part of your life then I'll remove myself from it, I'll..."

"Oh yes, because that would be just so easy!" I interject, "Ignore your responsibilities! Might as well just make this all about you! There are so many things I can't forgive you for, I don't know where to start. Hermione is the first, you tell me you adore and love her, and you watched her abused on our dining room floor! She was almost killed! The love of my life was almost killed in this house!" I bellow.

My father leans forward in his chair, his hands clutching its arms. "Though it was all too easy for the elf to take our wands wasn't it? Have you ever known me to allow such a thing to happen so without a real fight?” His eyes are desperate, and I look away. He continues. “Didn't I notice when you checked on the Lovegood girl? Yes, I did, did I want any of the prisoners here? No. Do you think I didn't hear Hermione scream as you did and not feel I was hurting you? Of course, I did, I knew how you felt about her and there was nothing I could do about it. I was ready to give my life for you all, but my wand was broken, and I was ashamed of myself. Even if I wanted to end it all I couldn't. The elf, Dobby, had more guts than I ever did, he took our wands because we all wanted him to, as a family. I hated Bella with a vengeance. She wanted me first, some time ago, but your mother married me, that was why it all happened, why she tried to take you from us, to make me pay for rejecting her. I knew back before I married your mother, Bellatrix was not in her right mind, she was spoiled and spiteful, she would have made a cruel mistress, even Lestrange had no tether to keep her in hand."

I take this in, I suppose I never understood the intricacies of pureblood marriage. I didn’t realise my father was to be betrothed to Bellatrix. I shudder at the thought of her as my mother. I find myself softening at his honesty.

"I've tried to bury my hatred for my aunt, but it lingers in amongst my hatred for your actions and for him—Voldemort. Father, I know you've tried, and I see you with Teddy, how you act like a father to him and..." Crookshanks rubs against my legs and I can't help but reach down and scratch his head, then I notice a small pure grey kitten jump onto my father’s lap. Hermione's cat leaves me instantly and runs to the other side of the room, crouching behind the antique table and peering at the little one my father is stroking the head of as if waiting to pounce and play. I'm distracted by the old cat’s actions. He usually wants to sleep by the fire but now he seems reenergised by the newcomer. I watch as the little one jumps down and scuttles across the floor. Crooks jumps out on him, then licks its head affectionately. My father pulls out some treats from the pocket of his robe and throws them to the cats who gobble them up frantically. Crooks sinks back on his haunches and allows the tiny kitten the last treat. I wish Hermione could see it. "…you're the father to him you never were to me." I walk towards the doorway. "Where is mother? I came to say goodbye." 

"She's in the kitchen for her baking lesson, she's improved, although Mippy informs me she still has much to learn. Admittedly, I suffer from indigestion nightly, but I do it for her, I do it because I love your mother very much." He looks down at his clasped hands.

"So, what shall it be, father, should I stay here and wait for your next ridiculous ideology? When I return, shall I find the world in burning tatters once more?" I snark with my back to him.

"I'd imagine it will be fine, and if it isn't it won't be of my doing. Teddy is doing well in his lessons, Andromeda and your mother are attempting to solve the wizarding worlds ills, and Potter has been offered a high position he can't resist.” He speaks sadly. “Draco, I know what's holding you back. You think your mother is unhappy still, you think things might return to the way they were. Stand here and tell me differently." I turn to him and he holds his hand out to indicate I should come forward and look him in the eye. 

I watch the kitten run to him and claw its way up to his lap. He bites his lips together in pain and I wonder why it amuses me so, it a small comeuppance. Then the kitten struggles up his chest and nuzzles his jaw. This is a wizard who once might've crushed a tiny soul such as her on the word of a monster. I observe him ruffle her ears. "What's her name?" 

"She's my Draconia, named after you, my son. A half-kneezle, like her elderly playmate. I thought I wouldn't see you for some time and she is your replacement for now. Having a young boy in the house has revitalised me so I thought it might work with Crookshanks too."

Lucius looks up hopefully and I shake my head. I want to snap harshly but the kitten winds its way around his neck and Crookshanks jumps onto his łap too, sniffing at his pocket for more treats. 

"I want to know why, father. Why wasn't I good enough receive your love as a child when a boy who isn't your own son is almost living my life? I don't begrudge Teddy, far from it, he's my cousin and he's lost his parents. The boy deserves a good life, a happy life, after all, isn't that what they fought for, the Order, for people to be happy? Sometimes I wonder whether it was ever meant for any of us, those who were on the losing side." I sit on the wingback chair opposite him with a thump, rubbing my face with my hands.

"Draco, you know none of us were winners, we had already lost when I allowed that megalomaniac into our lives, nobody truly won, because too many people lost their loved ones and their lives. We sat here in this house and when he truly began his campaign against the muggleborns, I knew then I was lost, my soul was as black as his."

I bark out a cynical laugh. "Father your soul was tarnished the day you attempted to kill Harry Potter, a boy, if it wasn't blackened already."

"I was livid, you don't know how desperate I was to carry out the D—Voldemort’s orders, to save face before the other Death Eaters. I carried out his orders because of you and your mother. Once I knew I was in too deep, it was all for you. That's why I ruled you with an iron rod, because I didn't want you to show fear to him."

"But I was afraid, I was always afraid, father." I bow my head. I don't want him to see how ashamed I feel by that statement. I know Hermione would hate any shame attached to fear, she and I have a shared understanding of fear, we're in it together because we know how it can crush a person and wring every bit of hope from them.

"As was I." He admits.

We sit in silence. A weight lifts a little from me now I know he was just as frightened too. It will never make up for what he did, after all, Snape somehow managed to become a double agent with far less resources than my father was privy to and yet he showed he was a good man. Snape must have known it would all come out eventually and he was hailed an unlikely hero. I wonder why my father couldn't have done the same. It's not worth dwelling on, hindsight is a wonderful thing but doesn't alter anything already undertaken. I need to decide now whether I will allow what's happened to me to rule my life from now on. "No." I begin and father looks dejected, as if he believes I'm doubting him. "We must leave this behind us now, I won't allow our past to dominate our future, nor should you." I stand, feeling invigorated as I realise there is nothing which can change our past, but everything can change the future. "It is only if we allow the ugly talk and bad feeling to keep our family from rising like a Phoenix from the flames that we will stay where we are now. Dumbledore believed in me, I know this to be true, and if he did and Potter and Hermione do, then we cannot, no, we will not allow our future to be tarnished! We will make recompense, we will start on our plans for the primary school upon our return and we will make amends, we will put any sentiment aside regarding the loss of our good name. We will do this father, because what else is there to do? I will not spend my life languishing in the dark because I made a mistake when I was sixteen. The wizarding world will know us as educators, deliverers of societal change and most of all, kindness. Mothers foundation is the first step, you and I will take the next, even if Hermione decides she cannot be involved when we return."

I look to my father and I'm surprised to see a tear meander down his cheek.

"You have the undaunted spirit of a true leader, that speech was from a man who I want to see lead the Malfoy line into the future. My son...my son." He clenches his fists and pushes them against his thighs.

Tears well in my eyes, but at that moment my mother rushes in with a plate of biscuits in her hand, her face powdered, and her outfit doused in flour. She's wearing an odd frilly pink apron and is flushed with excitement. 

"Oh dear, what's been happening in here? What are you doing here Draco? I thought you were leaving today?" She pauses, looking from one to the other of us, seeing our upset faces. "Have my dear boys been fighting?" Her face drops and I see her lower lip quiver momentarily.

My father clears his throat. "Not at all, Cissy, just talking through some things." He looks to me with a raised eyebrow questioning whether I will worry my mother further. "I think we've turned a page, left the past behind us, isn't that right my son?"

"It is father." I nod with a true smile. He's right and I feel lighter than I have in years, like I have finally laid my ghosts to rest and I can go away with the woman I love and enjoy my time with her. 

"Oh, my dears, come, give me a kiss, I'm so happy things have been resolved between you. I was so worried there would remain a cavernous gap between you forever, it scared me." She lets out a small sob, her hand trembling, her biscuits rattling on the plate.

We both embrace her and for once I feel like I'm truly part of my own family. My heart swells as I feel my parents enclose me in their arms. I close my eyes and for once I feel peace I've never felt, but within Hermione's arms. I chuckle and both my parents pull back with a curious look. "Oh, I was just wondering what Hermione would make of this display of affection, she'd be proud of us all, I'd imagine." I give them a watery grin. To be held in my parent’s hearts is a wonderful feeling and more that we can walk forth into tomorrow while keeping our estate going and to make a difference to the lives of those we destroyed, to help them meet their own destiny feels good. 

I hear the grandfather clock in the hall chime midday, and I start. "Merlin, I have to go! Hermione will kill me if I'm late for the portkey!" I kiss my mother then pause before hugging my father, rushing to the floo. 

"We'll miss you, enjoy yourselves, don't forget the ring’s here if you want it!" I hear my father shout after me. 

Mippy is waiting beside the floo, her tiny fingers wringing the edge of her apron, her eyes swimming with tears. "Master Draco, Mippy knows youse in a rush but she's to be missing you." 

She lets out a sob and my heart breaks for the tiny elf who's always been by my side since I was a child. I sink to my knees. "Mippy, I'll miss you too." I enclose her in my arms. A rush of disappointment in myself floods through me for all those times I thought her beneath me, along with any other creature or witch and wizard who was not pureblood. She was like my second mother and she stayed through the worst of times because of me. "We will send an owl to tell you how we are, a postcard, Hermione tells me it is called, it has a picture on one side of the card and a message on the other."

"Oh, master Draco, I shall’s be treasuring anything you send." 

I take a moment to kiss her face and I rise. "Goodbye Mippy, goodbye to you all!" I call dramatically, bowing to them as the floo lights up behind me.

.......

**Hermione**

"Molly, I want to go but I'm frightened you'll all forget me, that I'll lose the closeness we have." I sob. 

"I've lost two of my brood, I'll not lose another."

Molly holds me close. I feel like I've been enveloped in love, she is love and everything I ever needed after the loss of my own mother. 

"I know darling, I know how hard it's been for you and I thank you for being there for me when I lost my Fred and even all that happened with Percy. You might not have thought I noticed, but I did, I saw you sitting by my side and I appreciated it when my children felt they couldn't approach me, I know they were afraid to upset me further. You've always been brave my dear, never been afraid of emotion. I give you my love, anything you need, it is all I have to give for now." 

"Molly, you have so much more than that." I tell her.

She gives a wan smile. "I give what I can after two wars, I think love is the only thing left." She shrugs gently and cups my face. My fat tears fall over her fingertips.  

Ron and Tracey choose that moment to walk through the door and I look up to see concern in their faces.

"What has that git done? I'll bloody kill him!" Ron rushes over, swiftly followed by Tracey as she sinks down at my side and takes my hand. 

"Oh god, I knew he'd do this! I'm so sorry Hermione." Tracey looks angry and regretful and it makes me almost burst out hysterically at poor Tracey, she remembers the nasty boy and not the kind man I know. I know I'm not supposed to make mental notes anymore, but surely to get her to change her mind about him on our return will give us both a sense of peace, so I resign myself to make all in my adopted family realise what a man he has turned out to be.

Molly and I look at each other and burst out laughing. 

"No, no, it's nothing like that, oh, sweet Circe, Hermione's upset because she and Draco are leaving us all for a year. She thought we'd forget her, silly girl." Molly mops her eyes and taps my arm with a sigh. 

"Hermione, like we'd ever forget you, that's rubbish," Ron grasps my other hand and Tracey begins to giggle too. "I'll always be wary of the bloke, it is Malfoy after all, and I'm sorry for suspecting he'd fucked up, but I know he loves you, it's written over the soppy sod’s face every time he looks at you. As for us forgetting you, blimey Hermione, why would you ever forget how important you are to us?" He squeezes his hand tighter around my own. "If Harry was here, he'd be angry you even thought it." He beams but looks emotional, his face reddens, and his freckles look more prominent than ever.

Tracey rises and kisses my cheek fondly, she's such a lovely girl I still wish I'd met her at school. She's perfect for Ron and he neglects to notice she looks at him like Ron said Draco looks at me. "Molly, I'll make some tea." I watch Molly squeeze her hand as she passes.

Arthur comes inside and places his cap on the kitchen counter. "What's all this? Why are people crying?" He moves closer, looking concerned.

"Hermione thinks we'll forget her." Ron tells his father.

"Forget who?" Charlie enters after his father a minute later.

"Hermione." Ron reiterates in irritation.

"This Hermione?" Arthur gasps melodramatically. "Our adopted daughter, the light of our lives along with our Ginny, that very Hermione?" Arthur plops down and Tracey places a mug of tea on the table before him. "And of-course our daughter in laws, or future daughters in law, hold the same place in our hearts." He quickly adds, winking at Tracey. 

"It seems she worries we would forget her." Molly repeats. 

"Never." Charlie utters, moving towards me, his eyes on mine as the floo rushes to life. 

My Draco steps out, brushing himself down. Is he covered in flour? That's odd, but I suppose Narcissa’s baking hobby must be somewhat responsible. I bite my lips in amusement, my eyes still red with tears.

"Draco, darling, oh, my goodness, it seems you've had a fight with a bag of flour." Molly rushes to his side, brushing him off. 

I watch him stare right at Charlie, his eyes flashing as he observes Charlie's hand as it lays on the back of my chair. Charlie stands to his full height and gives the same look right back. Shit, well, isn't this swiftly turning into a pissing contest? Charlie smirks and Draco takes a step forward in challenge. 

"What is this?" Ron stands up to face the two of them, "If you're not aware, Hermione is upset about leaving us, so I suggest you both sit the bloody hell down and stop acting like complete pricks. We all love her in our own ways, we'll all miss her madly, so let's get a grip and let her live her life.” Ron can be quite commanding when he wants, he makes me proud. “Charlie, if you can't accept her choice after everything that's happened, then please, either piss off or give her the respect she deserves. And Malfoy, just sit-down mate, there was nothing out of order going on before you arrived, she was being comforted by mum when we all turned up at once."

Molly was clearly attempting to stop her chuckles as Arthur rounded to place his hand on her shoulder, it must have been Ron's earnest speech which set her off, it isn’t his usual style and he seems to have a wise head on his shoulders these days. Draco walks right over to place a hand on my cheek, thumbing away my tears as Charlie storms out. 

"Dear, just ignore him, my sons have always had a temper, it's the red hair I’m afraid." Molly apologised to Draco. 

Tracey kisses Ron's cheek, setting a plate of Molly’s iced buns on the coffee table. "My hero." I hear her mutter. Once upon a time I thought the same about Ron, that he was the best thing since sliced bread, and I wanted what they have now with him. To hear his true love speak so lovingly to him gave me a happiness I'd never thought I'd ever experience regarding Ron, the sense of closure over what happened once between us was felt long ago, but it was sealed irrevocably by Tracey's statement. Comparatively, Charlie and I never began, and I find all this macho, male rivalry unnecessary. 

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but I need to have words with him." Draco says as he leaves to follow Charlie. 

"Draco!" I cry out as the door slams behind him. Anxiety floods my belly and I find myself in Arthur's arms as I began to cry again. "Please, p-please don't let them kill each other, I couldn't bear it." I sob in his arms. This was supposed to be a happy day and now I'm worried Charlie might become a dragon slayer and kill my dragon. After all, he has at least a foot in height and 100lbs on Draco.

"Ronald, do be a dear and go after those silly boys." Molly pushes him towards the door. 

"But Muuum." He whines but leaves anyway, sighing and shaking his head.

"Tracey, darling, perhaps we might need some stronger tea. Let's make another pot."

For once I was left alone with the only father figure in my life apart from Lucius, who I have to say has been far more affectionate than I’d ever dreamed possible. Arthur gave me a squeeze. "I want you to know you're very important to all of us, Hermione, and you'll always have a home here, you and Draco, should you ever need it."

"Thank you, that means so much." I let go and accept his hankie. We sit by the fire and he sits back and bounces his leg. 

"I had a temper like Charlie's once. Dear Merlin if anyone so much as glanced Molly’s way I'd have my hand around their neck so fast their head would spin." He chuckles. "Of course, it couldn't go on, Molly almost threw me out for it, so I curbed it. It still rears its ugly head, once in a while but it's been easier to damp down as I've matured." He coughs. "I-I think what I'm trying to say, is don't think too badly of them, it's hard on Charlie to find you two are not to be and it's difficult for Draco to have you; to have gone through so much with you; only to realise he's not the only one vying for your affections." He lets out a sigh, "Men are often idiots, but I know Draco has proved less idiotic than the rest, which is saying a lot considering the man’s past. I can see he adores you, Hermione, and he'll make mistakes, so will you, but go and be happy, come back to us when you're ready. Live your life, remember Fred and do it for him."

Molly comes back with a tray of drinks and Arthur and I are both crying. She calls back to the kitchen, "Best bring the pot, Tracey dear." 

......

**Draco**

"You know, I never thought I'd have any a Weasley other than Ron to worry about." I snort as I find Charlie leaning against a wall leading back into Diagon Alley, facing a passageway that leads to the Leaky Cauldron. I need a drink too, it's been ages since a sip of alcohol passed my lips, but we only have two hours till our portkey activates and it's likely Hermione will skin me alive for getting pissed in the first place. 

"I need a drink, so come, or don't come, it's of no sodding consequence to me, Malfoy.” He strides off, so I follow him. I'm not in the mood to be beaten half to death by the muscular dragon tamer, I'm not fit enough to fight him, so I hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does I'll give the fucker a good fight.

He slams the door to the Leaky open and I follow him inside, followed a few moments later by a puffing Ron Weasley, who says breathlessly. "Mate, I thought I'd better check you weren't killing each other." The day has become stranger and stranger, so I move aside to let him follow his brother inside. 

Charlie sits on a stool at the bar, ordering six fire-whiskies and lining up two for himself, passing two each to me and Ron in silence. I raise an eyebrow at Ron, and he shrugs, picking one up and knocking it back. I pause, I need to think of Hermione and how she'll feel if I drink. I promised her I'd make life easy for her by joining her in abstinence, but here I want to save face, I don't want Charlie to think I'm under Hermione's thumb. I know I relinquish alcohol for her, still I find myself taking hold of the drink as I sit on the next stool, eye to eye with the man I know once kissed the love of my life and still wants her.

"I apologise." Charlie throws his second whiskey back and orders another round of six. "I didn't realise things had become so serious between you two, I've been back in Bulgaria, I heard the news about Percy and the Dark Figure group. I heard you and Hermione dealt with that with my brother and Harry, I just thought you were friends. I only came back yesterday and heard you're seeing each other." He slung a third back as the barmaid placed the next round in front of us. I raise an eyebrow which insinuates that perhaps she should make herself busy for the next hour, sliding a handful of galleons in her direction. 

"We aren't...I mean, no, we're not just seeing each other, we're together, as in a proper couple, living together, the whole shebang." I say as I pick up a third glass and sling it back. If there's a likelihood I might be beaten half to death, then it seems wise to have something to kill the pain.

His blue eyes centre on mine, they're like Ron's but more cerulean and piercing.

"I'm in love with her." He says.

"Charlie." Ron warns.

Both Charlie and I ignore him. I level my gaze on his, "For fucks sake, yes, she's perfect, that’s why I love her, Charlie, and I won't let her go, not unless she tells me to." I keep my eyes steady on his. "We're a good match and it's not just infatuation, we're in love and we're about to travel the world together, so, I suggest you see me drinking with you as the kind gesture it is, I want to let you down gently." 

He looks to his next drink and downs it, before picking up my fourth and clinking it against my empty glass, before slinging it back. "You know, I always liked her because she was always so innocent about kissing and her face flushes so adorably when she has any male attention."

I'm about to lose my mind, I know what she's like when she comes, he has no fucking idea, but to suggest she's into anyone who looks at her makes me want to spit like a snake.

"When me and Hermione saw each other for a while, she was always so nervous. When I was with Lavender, who was a bloody man eater, I felt different, freer. I never realised I broke her heart until Harry told me after. Funny that I just never knew how she felt, well, maybe not so funny when I realised, I'd hurt her, but I didn't know she liked me. I feel so bad about it all now, and I know we were never suited, not like you two are." Ron grimaces. 

I've never thanked fuck for Weasley enough, he's a good man but still feel a barb on the tip of my tongue. "Thanks Ron, it makes me feel so much better to think about her dating yet another Weasley." I snipe.

"Huh." Charlie says, leaning over to pick up Ron's last drink and throw it back. "Obviously she'd never experienced a real man back then, Ronald."

"Well she wouldn't, would she? She was a girl." Ron glowers.

Ire rises into my throat and I see red. I stand and hiss in his face. "I suggest you consider the petty romance you have in your head as nothing compared to what we have! She kissed me first and there was no blushing, no virginial fucking worries about me taking her maidenhead, she didn't tell me! I only realised I'd broken her barrier when I did it. My Hermione did it on her terms, that was the difference, that's what I adore her for, it's because she can be herself with me, she can take control! She's herself and you two never saw her for that, you see her as the little bloody woman, and I pity you for it!" Shit, I shouldn't have revealed something so personal, Hermione is going to string me up by the bollocks.

Ron places his hands on my shoulders. "Draco, um, mate, calm down before we all end up in the Prophet or arrested." He sat down on his stool with a thud, "Sod it, I'm turning into Hermione, I know being arrested is worse." He mutters to himself. 

I look around the pub and realise everyone's eyes are on me. It doesn't phase me, as I'm used to people giving me the evil eye. "You did this deliberately! You want to make me look bad, so she won't want me anymore! You did this because you can't have her. She's my everything, my everything, why can't you understand that?" I shout.

"No!" He towers over me as he stands. "I needed to know you deserved her, my parents are a pair of fools and they think love solves everything, I know for a fact it doesn’t!" 

"Oi, that's out of order Charlie, they're happy, they want their kids to be bloody happy, Hermione included." Ron yells, I see our raised voices are attracting more attention.

Charlie waves him off, "Sweet Salazar, now I do, so sit the fuck down and have another pissing drink." He slaps his thighs as he sits and reaches forward to clap me on the back. "She's yours, unfortunately, we would never have worked. How could she have dealt with a bi-annual visit from me for a snog and maybe a quick shag? I love her but I can't give her what she needs, you can, and who's to say she ever would've wanted more with me? She's more of a dragon tamer than me, isn't she mate?" He snickers, clapping me on the shoulder. "Your round."

"Hang on just a minute!" I catch his hand and remove it from my shoulder, I'm still livid this bloke thinks he ever had a chance and dares to talk about her like he does. "My princess always deserved more than that. That is why you're wrong for her, she needs support, she needs someone who knows she's not just in a relationship for a shag. She needs someone who gets her, someone who understands her, someone who'll bloody get up in the night and make her hot chocolate when she wakes up screaming from bad dreams. She's never had to tame the dragon, because the dragon sank to his knees when he realised she wanted him. It just so happens you fucking snogged her a long time ago and you never stood a chance, because if you did, she would’ve given it to you." I sling back my final shot as Charlie's eyes darken.

"Oh fuck." I hear Ron say behind my back, then I see Charlie's meaty fist heading for my face.

.....

**Hermione**

 

"They're not outside." Arthur rushes inside, "I've searched everywhere, Ron's gone too." 

"The portkey is set for us to leave in twenty minutes, I'm going to kill him! Why should I expect him to be here on time, he's been fussing about this trip, I'm going without him, right now!" I shrill, so annoyed that something I've always wanted is about to be ruined because of male pride, that I take the portkey from my pocket, fully intending to leave.

"No, Hermione, listen to me, he would never do anything to hurt you. It's my son’s fault, I know it is. We gave him hope before you got together with Draco, I'm sorry for that. We saw you and Charlie together and it seemed right until we saw how you are with Draco." Molly admits, "It would've been perfect to have you married to one of our boys, but Draco deserves you, and you deserve him."

The floo activates and Ron steps through looking red faced and flustered. "Err, um, well...it was kind of like this…"

Draco's behind him, he has a black eye and bleeding knuckles. He's not meeting my eye, rather, he’s looking sheepishly at the floor.

"Oh my god, what happened?" I stand watching them, Draco staggers and I realise they're drunk. Great, my ongoing sobriety is clearly not an issue for him, this day is just getting better and better, I bite my lips to stop myself from tearing Draco a new arsehole.

Charlie follows them, nursing his jaw and a nasty blooming cheek. "Um, I happened."

Both are rumpled, dirty and covered in scrapes. 

"Oh, Charlie you didn't!" Molly rushes over and slaps his head. 

"Ow! Mum, it's all been sorted out now." Charlie whines as he ducks away from her.

"Barely," Ron limps towards Tracey, "I did what I could but they were thrown out of the Leaky. I expect a poster on the wall next week, asking if we've seen these wizard's, with Charlie belting Draco in the eye and Draco giving Charlie the best upper cut to the jaw I've ever seen, followed by a haymaker to the face. It was amazing until I got in between them and got battered in the back of the head." He's rubbing his head with a wince. 

I decide he's the one who deserves sympathy. "Ron, I'm sorry." I watch Tracey soothe his head, "Tracey, it my fault." I tell her.

"No, Ron has a penchant for involving himself in trouble, but I know he did it for a good reason. I wouldn't apologise for any of his other brothers...hmm, maybe George, he's crafty but he never does stuff like this." She smirks. 

"Hermione, darling, the portkey is about to activate." Molly rushes forward, "it's five to eight, if you're both going then you need to go now."

I walk to Draco and take a deep breath, attempting not to smell the alcohol on his breath. "You're an idiot."

"I'm sorry, princess." He replies, "If it’s of any consequence, I'm an idiot only for you." He kisses my knuckles.

"Yeah, well, we can discuss that in Morocco when you've sobered up." I huff, reaching to touch his eye. He winces, looking contrite.

Do you know when you get that feeling? That shiver down your spine when you think you're being watched? This time it’s because I'm looking my future in the eyes. He reaches out to my cheek and mouths, "I love you, I'm sorry."

The alarm rings on my wand to remind us the port key is about to activate in five minutes. I try not to panic, this is our moment, and regardless of whether Draco made a bad choice, it doesn't mean we won't enjoy our time away. 

Ron rushes forward to give Draco a sober up potion and a clap on the back, taking me into his arms and hugging me tightly. "Don't be too hard on him. I'll miss you." He kisses my cheek. 

We swiftly say our goodbyes with hugs and promises to keep in touch and Draco even shakes Charlie's hand as we rush to the garden hastily. I glance at the people surrounding us with love and I know we'll miss them. 

Placing our hands together on the portkey in the shape of an antique broach, I realise the one who was a dark figure in my life has become my light, my only light and as we swirl through land upon land to our destination, I'll always love him, always. 

We land on hard ground as neither of us see the landing point coming so quickly. Landing on our backs, breathing heavily in the beating heat of the sun, I look up. The sky is the bluest I've ever seen as I lay my head upon the rocks behind me.

"I can't believe you had a fight with Charlie!" I say breathlessly.

"Hermione look." I listen to Draco scramble up, but I can't see him, placing the back of my hand over my eyes as a sunbeam threatens to blind me. 

"I won't, not until you tell me why you did that." I'm filled with anger and I want to make him pay, my hearts beating rapidly and I'm angry, so angry with him. 

"No, I mean, look." 

"Look at what?" I'm irritable as I stand and brush myself off. I see nothing but rock.

I feel Draco's hands on my shoulders as he slowly turns me. 

"This is your dream, isn't it?" His voice is filled with awe. 

I turn and recognise the summit of the mountains of Jebel Toubakal, the Atlas Mountains, not far from Marrakesh. I've seen the pictures so many times on postcards, in books, in my dreams. This was my fantasy from the first time I wanted to come here. 

"Oh, Draco," I whisper as he loops his arms around my waist and lays his head against mine, "It's perfect."

I feel a peace I haven't felt for so many years, in his arms here in the place I've always wanted to visit. I thread my fingers through his. We stand there for some time. "Who would've thought our arrival at Hogwarts together would have led us here, to this moment?" I murmur.

"I always knew it, always wanted you. I know things weren't the same for you at first but I won you in the end. I'll love you forever, I hope you know that?" He kisses my temple.

We peer at a stag as it wanders a few yards away, I hold my breath as I watch a leopard watch it greedily from the rocks above. 

I feel my heart race, thumping as I watch. I'm desperate not to disturb nature as it should be.

 

Boom boom.

Boom boom.

Boom boom. 

 

The leopard goes to jump towards the stag and Draco swiftly withdraws his wand. "Stupefy!" It falls in a lump on the ground, its beautiful eyes filled with shock.

"Not today my fine fellow," he chuckles, "Granger might not like you trying to eat the Patronus of her best friend on her first holiday or deciding to eat us instead when you realise it’s not real." 

Harry's stag comes to our side. "I needed to know you got here okay, I'm sorry if I've interrupted anything. Enjoy your trip, I love you Hermione, and Draco, look after her." The stag raced off in a cloud of white. 

I follow Draco as he squats and strokes the unconscious animal.

"I'm sorry but I couldn't give up the chance for you to pet a kitty six times the size of Crooks." 

I smile and sink to my knees beside him, casting a quick cushioning charm on my knees. He runs his fingers through the animal’s fur, reaching out myself he clasps my hand as I do the same. "His fur is thicker than I expected."

"Her." He says.

"Pardon?"

"Hers, she's the mother of those, up there." He indicates with a cock of his head.

I melt as I see three little leopard kittens peering over the ridge above us. They look troubled for a moment, but then begin to bat each other's heads and roll around. 

"I fear I've denied her babies their dinner." He speaks quietly as he looks at me, his hand on mine as we run it through her thick pelt. "The stag wasn't real though, so what could I do?" 

“You protected us, and we’ll just try our best not to disturb the status quo with magic from now on.” I grasp his hand, excited for what comes next. If this is the beginning of our life, then I can’t wait for what’s in store for us. “Rennervate!” I yell, pointing my wand at the prone creature as we’re sucked away via apparition.


End file.
